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LETTERS 



IISCELLAIIES 



PEOSE, RHYME, AND BLANK-VEESE, 



BY 

LOUISE ELEMJAY, 

A LADY OF THE SOUTH. 



A sigh, a smile, and folly's tinkling chime, 
These are our footprints on the sands of time. 



SECOND EDITION. 



CINCIXKATI: 

MOORE, AN■DERSO]S^ WILSTACH & KEYS, 
28 WEST FOURTH STREET. 

1853. 






3 



fei 



1^1 



Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1852, by 

WM. E. ASIIMORE, for the AUTHOR, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District of Kentucky. 



sK! 



\ 



CINCINNATI: 
MOKGAN <fe CO., 8TERE0TTPERS, 
HAMMOND ST. 



ro 
MES. MAETHA MELTOX AND FLOEA A. GEAY, 

OF 

SHARON, MADISON CO., MISSISSIPPI, 

THE FIRST 

EFFICIENT LIYING PATRONS 

OF 

THE SAME 

IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 

BY 

THEIR OBLIGED FRIEND, 

THE AUTHOR. 



MONOLOGUE WITH THE PURCHASER. 



Just please to lay down this book, Mr. Borrower, we 
don't commit black and white for you to read, and 
shouldn't be propitiated if you were to sit up the whole 
blessed night to sponge a perusal; so you see, friend 
Purchaser, that if we are "tedious as a king," we in- 
tend you to have the entire benefit of that uncommon 
idiosyncracy. 

And you know it used to be the fashion for the poor, 
craven, fawning, toady of an author, to deprecate the 
wrath of the critics in a good set speech, anticipating 
and admitting their righteous verdict of denunciation, 
and then to smooth down the rafiled plumage of the 
minor literati, or reading public, with a plentiful liba- 
tion of stale, fulsome commonplace, invariably winding 
up with a pathetic appeal for toleration, patronage, and 
sympathy. Mi-rob -i-le ! Wouldn't we like to catch 
ourselves at anything of the kind in ''''this enlightened 
AGE?" You have doubtless good sound sense and lite- 
rary taste, or you wouldn't have bought our book ; but 
as to the general enlightenment, we can't speak posi- 
tively, till we see what reception it gives to these Letters 
and Miscellanies. 

(iii) 



IV MONOLOGUE WITH THE PUKCHASEK. 

As for the critics, they may find it amusing to throw 
dust into other people's eyes, but we don't — gold dust 
more particularly ; and as for making ''the fine 
eyes" to sweeten their cream-o'-tartar visages, that's 
out of the question; cause why, it's much easier for 
some folks to make ugly faces " now-a-days," than 
pretty ones. And then, the supposition of their ever 
looking much beyond the title-page of one-half the 
books they undertake to praise or berate so unmercifully, 
is so refreshingly verdant, that it would be cruel to tan- 
talize the locusts and caterpillars by any such preten- 
sion! So, you see, there is no help for it — they will 
e'en have to abuse us to their heart's content; though 
our own private opinion (publicly expressed) is, that 
they will feel far more fatigued than satisfied, when they 
have done; for we intend to go right ofi" to an insurance 
office, and then if we are "killed with a criticism," it 
will be a matter for the stockholders to look into. 

But, only think now, of saying gentle header, to 
some snarling, vinegar-faced cynic — telling him your 
book is infinitely beneath the notice of his high mighti- 
ness — yet begging and beseeching that he will graciously 
please to read and condescend to praise it, nevertheless. 
''Angels and ministers of grace defend us! " Does the 
Public ever expect us to " sin our poor miserable soul" 
after that fashion? If it does, it needn't! And you 
wouldn't have us iofih so upon any account, would you ? 
for, certes, you must know, we do think the book very 



MONOLOGUE WITH THE PURCHASER. V 

well worth your time and Dioney too — otherwise we 
should feel very much like having swindled you out of 
that dollar, and that would be an uncomfortable sensa- 
tion. ]^ot but that you may be used to such operations, 
and also that there may be some better poetry, and even 
prose, extant ; though ours is very good — the poetry we 
mean — to fill up the pages and diversify their appear- 
ance ; so, on the whole, it is pretty confidently expected 
that you will find yourself exceedingly well entertained, for 
the time being, by these random gleanings from the past: 
Always provided you don't dash them down in a fury, 
the first time a wipe of the pen happens to come across any 
of your sectional, sectarian, or political prepossessions. 
Don't do it, friend ; in the first place, it's undignified, 
very, unless you happen to be a philosopher, in which 
case you can say, "/^^'^ enough to jprovol^e a saint ^^ and 
then rave as much as you like; in the second, it won't 
alter the type, or the facts, or the author's opinion in the 
least; and then again, a woman being never very cele- 
brated for knowing her own mind long at a time, it's 
just possible you may find a recantation^ if you only 
keep on. That depends, though, on whether the subject 
comes up again of its own accord, for our readers being- 
sensible, can not of course expect us to go out of the 
way merely to say. We are a vast deal loiser now titan 
we were tioenty years ago ; for where is the use of being 
tossed up and down the world like Sancho Fanza in his 
blanket, if there is nothing to be learned in the process ? 



VI MONOLOGUE WITH THE PURCHASER. 

But, whatever you do, don't worry yourself about 
identity or venue, for if ever you come to the conclusion 
that both are transparent as gossamer, the chances are, 
just then, very much in favor of your having mystified 
yourself most beautifully. N^ot that there's anything 
special to conceal, or that we haven't a perfect right to 
put ourselves in a pillory, unmasked, for your edifica- 
tion ; but then we don't choose all our acquaintance to 
feel that their daguerreotypes have been stolen and 
hawked up and down the country ; so, if you chance to 
belong to " that useful and ingenious class of citizens 
who prefer minding everybody's business beside their 
own," just thank your kind, and our " contrary -minded " 
stars, for having given you a peep into somebody's pri- 
vate correspondence, and some little insight into matters 
and things which don't concern you in the least. 

"But,- oh ! my heart is sad, and my lips are mute. 
As I yield up to censure the dreams of my youth, 

Whose warblings brought 
Shadows of beauty to whisper with me. 
Love, hope, feeling, and fantasy, 

From the realms of thought! " 

However, one's courage may be " screwed up to the 
sticking point," and you are just as welcome as your 
neighbor, so "take the goods the gods have provided, 
and be thankful ! " 

Yours, as you demean yourself, 

The Author, or, if you insist, The Writeress. 

Sharon, Mississippi, 1852. - 



CONTENTS 



Page 

Monologue with the Publisher 3 

Contents 7 

Letter I. First Impressions of Virginia 9 

Letter II. Virginia Hospitality, etc 20 

Letter III. Desultory Gossip 31 

Letter IV. Light and Shade , 35 

Farewell to a Friend 40 

Letter V. Advice and Remonstrance 41 

Elegiac Lines 48 

Letter VI. Supplement to the preceding one 49 

Epithalamium 55 

Letter VII. Metaphysics and other Vagaries 56 

That other Home 60 

Letter VIII. Strictures on Sectarian Creeds 61 

Orphanage 75 

Letter IX. Objections to Texan Adventure in 1834 79 

Letter X. K'ew England Abstractions 86 

My Common-place Book 98 

My last Lesson in Mathematics 101 

The Oak Sapling — An Apologue 102 

Letter XI. Everything in general and ISTothing in particular. . . 109 

Letter XII. Gossip with an old Schoolmate 117 

Letter XIII. On the Decease of a favorite Brother 126 

"They may deem 'tis the Love of Another" 132 

What is Truth ? 132 

(vii) 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

Page 

Letter XIV. Nonsense, Tennessee, and Slavery 135 

Reminiscence 158 

To the Loved in Heaven 162 

Fourth of July Address to the Sons of Temperance. 163 

Midnight Musings 169 

Fragment 172 

" Fail, fail— it dare not think to fail" 172 

Letter XV. On the Death of a young Lady killed by the acci- 
dental explosion of a rocket 174 

To Cecilia in Heaven 183 

Letter XVI. To an unfortunate and misguided Friend 184 

Lines suggested by an old Print 192 

Letter XVII. " To a Young Lawyer in Washington" 193 

Letter XVIII. Personalities and Matters and Things in general. . . 214 
Demand for a Song 249 

Letter XIX. Salmagundi of Gossip and Autobiography 250 

" The Home Fever." By A. J. Pickering 272 

EVELYN 275 

A L' OUTRANGE 276 

PASS ON 277 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 



LETTER I. 

EIKST IMPRESSIONS OF VIRGINIA. 

TO J. S. AND NIECE. 

Eagle Eyrie, Va., Aug. 19, 1828 or 9 * 

My deak Uncle and Sistek, 

You will no doubt be surprised at my date, but it is 
even so — here I am on the banks of old Powhatan, 
though, with my eyes closed, I can scarce realize that I 
am not still standing on the soil of my native state. 

As no satisfactory explanation of this singular de- 
parture from the original, or rather ostensible plan of 
travel can be given, suffice it to say that such was Mr. 

B 's pleasure ; and further that the contre-temps of 

the first twenty-four hours, were a most appropriate 
prelude to the whole performance. It was not indeed 
productive of any incident peculiarly disastrous ; but 
abounded in petty annoyances sufficient to rouse apathy 
itself into rage; being, as they generally were, the re- 
sult of B 's excellent contrivance, and his laudable 

effort, to see hoio disgusting a " would be wdt, and can't 
be gentleman," could render himself, by enacting at 
sixtv the beau of nineteen. 



* Dates omitted in first copy, are now doubtful. 



10 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

We left Geneva at the time appointed, spent two 
days in Utica, as many more inspecting the notabili- 
ties of Albany and its vicinity, visited Troy, Lansing- 
burgh, the Falls of the Cohoes; and last, not least, 
attended service in a neat country church, imbosomed 
in one of the loveliest groves man ever consecrated to 
his Maker. It was a perfect gem of beauty ; but that 

is nothing to B 's encomium — namely, that the 

officiating clergyman " never varied hut once {and that 
was probably a lajpsus lingum) from his standard of 
prominciationy If that isn't honor enough, his reve- 
rence must have a very inordinate share of vanity ; so 
I suppress all names for fear of endangering his humi- 
lity. It will never do, though, to omit, among other un- 
important items, a flying call on the father, brother, and 
cousins of the learned critic. We dined with one of 
the latter, and despite my predetermination to dislike 
the whole kith and kin, found some of them extremely 
polite and inteligent; all wealthy, respectable, and much, 
very much more agreeable than could have been ex- 
pected, judging from the specimen previously exhibited 
of the family. 

August 1st, we left for ]N"ew York ; but taking Hud- 
son en route^ did not arrive until the evening of the 2d. 
On the following morning, I had the pleasure of hear- 
ing the old man (I can't find it in my heart to call him 
gentleman) announce his intention of proceeding to 
Yirginia in the first packet that sailed for Norfolk. 
Remonstrance was useless, so I at length signified my 
intention to remain as long as I saw good — that is, 
until I had seen all the lions — unless he condescended 
to assign a reason, for this unexpected procedure. He 
had only a pretext, submission had to follow of course, 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 11 

SO finding my power absolute, and knowing that it must 
inevitably be short ; I resolved (as any good lover of 
authority would) to make the most of it while it lasted. 
And verily the way in which I proclaimed and executed 
my own good will and pleasure for three consecutive 
days, would have done honor to the Grand Seignior, or 
the Autocrat of all the Russias. Never was city more 
thoroughly reconnoitered in the same length of time by 
a single individual. Paul Pry himself could not have 
exceeded me in ferreting out things worthy to be looked 
at ; and I believe the sexagenarian's brain fairly reeled 
with the rapidity of my evolutions ; for if he didn't find 
the full significance of imjperium ad imperio^ illustrat- 
ed — much to the benefit of future saholastics no doubt — 
in a way he never imagined before, I am much mistaken. 
" Transit gloria^^ must have consoled him though, for 
even the Czar has only a quarter of a century, and I 
had considerably less; so my last act of absolutism 
(" oh lame and impotent conclusion") was, declining to 
take passage in the dirty old vessel which the dirt- 
loving old Dutchman had selected — for the sake of 
clieajpness I presume — and pronounced " nice and ele- 
gant." Fortunately my own choice fell on a packet, 
whose owner was going out to see how she made her 
first trip; and he, being an acquaintance of one of 
"mine hostess' " boarders, was brought round to Court- 
landt street and inti'oduced. This all sounds very puerile 
and commonplace; yet but for this apparently trivial inci- 
dent, I should have been left entirely without protection. 
There had been fires in the city for two nights pre- 
vious ; the first, which destroyed a new and very 
valuable block of buildings on Laurens street, did not 
disturb the Benedict's equanimity in the least: but the 



12 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

seconed which consumed a book and stationery store 
containing some of his invaluable works on Elementary 
Education — "for the use of schools in the United States 
and Great Britain" — so "deranged his plans" (for 
plans read feelings), that he resolved to abandon me to 
the care of strangers. It was only at the very last 
minute though, that this caricature of a man came into 
the cabin, exhausted his breath and his rhetoric, in the 
delivery of as many " nice,^^ plausible little "hbs" as 
he could conveniently invent, and then took his leave. 
Grief for his absence did not, however, prevent my 
w^atching the green islands and shores that rose and ex- 
panded to view, bright, beautiful as youth's earliest 
dream of happiness, with an intensity of feeling I can 
neither recall nor describe. Unfortunately, the mood 
was an evanescent one, so I fell to calculating how long 
I should be willing to be lashed to a mast and wet to the 
skin for the sake of seeing old IN^ep. in a magnificent 
fury. Don't scold me, I was tolerably reasonable after 
all ; but the sparkling waves that threw their light spray 
gracefully over the bow of the boat, intimated pretty 
clearly that his godship had no idea of putting himself 
in a passion for any such insignificant mortal as myself, 
BO I went below, to administer, if necessary, to the com- 
fort of another lady passenger, who was by this time 
quite sick — with the further intention of preparing my 
eyes for a moonlight survey of the waters, by closing 
them against an hour or two's sunshine — but on enter- 
ing the cabin, found, to my surprise, that instead of ren- 
dering, I had to receive assistance, and soon perceived 
the rolling of the vessel to be as complete a cure for ex- 
cited imagination, as I had imagined the latter for sea- 
sickness. Happily, my initiation w^as both short and 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 13 

slight — I left the deck about eleven o'clock one morning, 
and returned a little earlier on the next. Mr. A. the 
proprietor, constructed me a sort of arbor, out of coats, 
cloaks, and umbrellas, and spared no pains to make my 
passage agreeable as possible. Indeed, I soon found that 
I had fallen into excellent hands when abandoned to his 
care. His quiet, unobtrusive, and gentlemanly manner, 
contrasted admirably with the never-ceasing officiousness 
of his predecessor. His kindness in having me set 
ashore, (on the evening of the 12th,) half a mile helow 
the ' ' Land ing," spared me a circuitous and fatiguing walk 
to Maj. C.'s residence — w^hen you recollect the value of 
a fresh breeze after a calm, you will appreciate this cour- 
tesy all the better — a few moments then brought us to his 
door ; I was introduced, and Mr. A. soon after bade me 
farewell. He was the last link in the chain of my New 
York acquaintance, and his departure made me feel at 
once alone in a land of strangers. 

Nothing, however, was wanting on the part of "the 
Major," as Mr. C. is commonly styled, to dissipate this 
unpleasant feeling ; and the ladies of his family, four in 
number, evinced so much kindliness of feeling, and hos- 
pitality of intention, that I soon ceased to remark what 
struck me, at first, as the somewhat singular manner in 
which it was developed. One of these "nine hundred 
and ninety-ninth cousins," a coarse, good-natured, and 
rather good-looking _^a556^, with more diameter of ancle 
than an orthodox belle should have, is the individual 
alluded to by B., as the "elegant and accomplished 
lady" of his ex-excellency — at least I infer that she is, 
as he has no wife, and she is Madam^ the mistress. 
The children are all from home at present, nor are they 
expected to return for several months. I am not sorry 



14 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

to have some leisure for reflection, before entering on an 
untried experiment ; but fear that so much time unem- 
ployed, will cause me to regret more and more having 
missed the pleasure of visiting Philadelphia, Baltimore, 
and Washington, according to my original expectation. 

Rather than waste it in useless repining, I will employ 
a small portion in transporting your minds to my present 
abode. Gladly would I do it with the same grace that 
Mr. A. transferred me to the fatherly care of its propri- 
etor ; but this you will not expect. The exterior of the 
domicil is rather more than respectable, though merely 
iDOoden^ the interior exceeds it, perhaps, in the estima- 
tion of eyes accustomed to its style; but to me, the 
naked floors^ waxed and polished until one is thrown 
into a nervous fever, by constant apprehension of a fall 
and conscious inability to rise, present as cheerless, com- 
fortless, desolate a prospect, as one would wish to con- 
template in his most misanthropic hours. The walls ap- 
pear to have been painted and witewashed in days of 
yore, and doubtless, " once were clean and may be so 
again," though this is rather problematical. The furni- 
ture is scarce and plain, and seems to have escaped the 
fortunes of war during the ravages of Cornwallis, to the 
end it might become a resting-place for musquitoes ; of 
which Virginia is the paradise. 

IN'ow, there is another sentence would throw Blair into 
spasmodics ; but never mind, I think I am beyond his 
jurisdiction now, and shall tack appendages to sentences 
just whenever I please. 

The garden is indeed a southern one, in the profusion 
and variety of its shrubs and flowers; their absence 
might cause a sigh of regret, their presence, in their 
present location, creates a pang of dissatisfaction. The 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 15 

eminence, too, on which the mansion stands, might com- 
mand an extensive view of the noble river that washes 
its base, did not unsightly trees intercept the prospect, 
and impede the descent. Nature has done everything 
fur the place, art nothing! It wants only the reforming 
hand of taste, and Eagle Eyrie might become a scene of 
surpassiDg loveliness. But the river — the fairy river — 
man did not make, he has not marred it! It has not, 
indeed, (not at this point at least,) the bold banks and 
magnificent scenery of the Hudson; which, with some 
of the loveliest creations that ever bore the impress of 
divinity, suspend the very existence of the beholder in 
motionless rapture over its romantic charm ; but beauty, 
beauty is written on the lightest curl of every wave that 
reflects back to the sunbeam all the colors of the rain- 
bow; yes, "beauty that one must feel and see, to know 
how beautiful this world can be." 

Unfortunately, there seems to be less moral than phy- 
sical loveliness, extant in this immediate vicinity. My 
acquaintance is very limited to be sure; but that cir- 
cumstance alone does not account for the fact, that thus 
far I have met wdth little more mental cultivation than 
the first colonists did. It appears to me that among the 
ladies, at least, such a thing as a literary taste is a per- 
fect nonentity. It would seem that here, the simple 
birthright of freedom entitles the possessor, unless very 
poor, to consider himself the peer of the proudest in the 
land; and when conjoined with wealth, supersedes the 
necessity of any other qualification for such compan- 
ionship : but you may tell my good old friend, Mrs. H., 
to dismiss all uneasiness on my account, predicated on 
suspicion that Virginia is an "Infidel State." Xowhere 
is the name of religion more honored ; and if she does 



16 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

occasionally see " letters from pious females" and " tract 
distributors," purporting to come from this State, which 
speak of "taking up the cross," "being steadfast under 
persecution," and "following one's Master through evil 
as well as good report," she may rest assured tliat phra- 
seology (if, indeed, the whole be not a '''' jpious fraud,") 
only proves the writer to have imbibed a sectarian cant 
of expression. The profession of religion is not a cross 
but "a crown;" the name is popular whether the thing- 
signified is common or not. 1 suppose it must be though, 
as the Baptists and Methodists include, I am told, nearly 
all the respectable population of this and the adjoining 
counties, in their respective denominations. I was rather 
in hopes to have made acquaintance with the "old 
Church of England ; " but as near as I can learn, it seems 
to have gone pretty much out of fashion in the Old 
Dominion. 

I have attended public service only once since my ar 
rival; but will endeavor to give you some idea of the 
performance. To begin at the beginning, the appearance 
of Maj. C.'s equipage created quite a sensation you must 
know; clergyinan^ gentleman, negro, and clown, all 
seeming so eager to render every needful assistance, that 
I began to fear we should have to remain in staUi quo 
for the rest of the day. I was mistaken, however, we 
were at length handed out of the carriage, and into the 
house. This, I suspect, must have been built in reference 
to a certain text in Exodus, which refers to the erection 
of an altar, and prohibits the use of tools in its con- 
struction. It is simply a rough, covered frame, one story 
and a half high, with a small window in the rear of the 
desk; but no other convenience (except the doors,) for the 
admission of air and light, when the solid, heavy blinds 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 17 

are closed down. The seats are not " fixtures," but they 
are in admirable keeping with the residue of the estab- 
lishment. Xo sooner had the congregation become sta- 
tionary than an old gentleman volunteered to edify them 
by the exercise of his vocal powers, and commenced 
singing " Sweet is the work, my God, my King," care- 
fully inserting a double rest between every note of the 
tune, and syllable of the line. When lie had disposed 
of two stanzas in this way, and was about to make a 
desperate attack upon a third, and / had come to the 
commendable resolution of abstracting my attention from 
his psalmody, and bestowing it on the manners and per- 
sons of those around me, the Major entered, and with 
a voice, as your friend W. G. would say, "rich, deep, 
and melodious as the harps of Heaven," succeeded so 
far in neutralizing the leader's performance, that I for- 
got to return the compliment of the ''assembled worship- 
ers," who, I since learn, manifested a most laudable 
intention of familiarizing their optics with every line in 
the combination of my features, and every thread in the 
texture of my dress. Singing over, the "preacher," a 
cousin-german of Sir John Falstafi", judging from ap- 
pearances, commenced a discourse, to which " give every 
devil his due," would have been a most appropriate pre- 
fix; and proceeded with a nasal twang which would 
have stamped him orthodox in the days of the Protecto- 
rate. But alas for exacting ])oor human nature, too 
many of his auditors — insiders as well as outsiders — 
instead of thriving demurely on the spiritual food dis- 
pensed, commenced satiating their corporeal appetites 
with all the fruit and tobacco within their reach. And 
even good old exemplars — like the very pattern-hearer, 
who was ^^ mighty fond of jpreacJiing^ and didnH care 



18 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

rratcJi loliat it vms so it vjas only jpreacliing'^ — 
getting perhaps a little jealous of monopoly, contrived 
by sundr}^ unctions sighs, groans, and ''^Amens''' to 
come in for their full share of attention, and circumvent 
all wicked wights who might feel an ungodly curiosity 
to know what the speaker really was saying ; till I, for 
one, was quite as much delighted by the close of his 
remarks as you can possibly be by that of my comments. 
That was rather ungrateful though, for he certainly did 
originate one comparison entirely new to me — perhaps 
it may be so to you, so I repeat it for the benefit of all 
whom it may concern: "Religion, or grace, is like a 
brick-bat thrown against a wall" whose repellent pro- 
perty causes it to '' fly ofi" with the velocity of a tan- 
gent." The first half of the last clause gives the exact 
idea in a condensed form — the residue is v^erbatim, and 
the only legitimate inference from the preceding remarks 
was, that nothing but "racing," "cursing," or "danc- 
ing" could at all interfere with the brick-bat of his 
comparison. 

Now don't send me a full-grown moral lecture, in 
return for this sheriff-parson's sermon in jpetto — it was 
no fault of mine that the subject was so irreverently 
treated. While on collaterals, I must not omit to state, 
what I know will give you pleasure, namely — that my 
present abode is one in which the " Family altar" is 
erected, and the " morning and evening sacrifice" duly 
offered thereon by the major, who appears to be a sincere 
christian though his early religious education must have 
been somewhat defective. 

Since my arrival he has received a letter from B., who 
apologizes to him for leaving me — states his " infinite 
regret at having been compelled so to do ;" and adds. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 19 

that he "did not like to tell me (nor any one else, he 
might have said) the trutli^ for fear of alarming my 
very delicate sensibilities." '' Nae doot mon," had I 
learned for the first time in the morning, that there had 
been fire in the next street the evening preceding, I 
should have imagined I had perished in the flames! 
After all, I believe he acted in strict accordance with 
his original plans ; for the}^, I presume, may be much 
better traced by their developments than by such outlines 
as he pleases to give. Candor, not to say veracity, is 
altogether too vulgar a virtue for him \^ patronize, it 
seems, consequently he never descends to fact, when, by 
any species of legerdemain, fiction can be made to 
answer. Bah ! Who would be so common-place % Any 
simpleton can tell the truth — it takes a man of talent, 
to invent and sustain a well-digested plausible false- 
hood—and don't "marble and mahogany" loom up 
beautifully in moonshine ? 

The length of this must be my apology for addressing 
it to more than one ; when people have contracted the 
bad habit of writing long letters they cannot of course 
be expected to manufacture them in great profusion. 
If this reflection is not perfectly satisfactory, let the 
aggrieved party give this a second perusal and fancy it 
a duplicate ; for that is about what both would have 
received had you been addressed "separately and 
singly." I think I have hit upon a plan now to silence 
all grumbling, for any sensible body would, I am sure, 
prefer keeping quiet to obeying such an injunction. 
Indeed I am far from certain that both together can 
make out all I have written ; my autograph is none too 
legible at best, but I intend to bring in " Stumpie" for 
a share of the discredit on the present occasion. 



20 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Accept, dear uncle and sister, many thanks for your 
past kindness and best wishes for your future welfare. 

Yours, 



Louise. 



A 



LETTER II. 

VIRGINIA HOSPITALITY, ETC. 

• TO MASTER S. J. S. 
-X Eagle Eyrie, Va., March , 

Deak Bkothee Stanley: 

Could you imagine half the pleasure your correspon- 
dence affords, you would never think of withholding it 
on account of "childish imperfections." When told 
that it contains the only intelligence received since I left 
New York, you will better appreciate its value and the 
warm welcome which always greets its arrival. A 
bright beam of sunshine, your last dispels for a while 
the deep gloom which has so long been accumulating 
round my heart; and I hail this renovation of life's 
dearest sympathies, as the welcome harbinger of better 
days to come. "Hope springs eternal in the human 
breast," were it otherwise, how many a pale brow on 
which " the tale is traced of young affections run to 
waste," would too ardently long to lay down its burning 
thoughts and restless imaginings, "on that couch from 
which there is no rising up ; and repose its exhausted 
energies in that sleep which knows no waking." "Oh 
blindness to the future kindly given, that each may fill 
the circle marked by heaven !" The vail which con- 



LETTEKS AND MISCELLANIES. 21 

ceals the impenetrable future is to me indeed "a veil 
of mercy" whid^spares me man 3^ an hour of unavailing 
wretch edness.^P 

I am sorry to find that grandmother so seriously dis- 
approves what she is pleased to style the "madcap, 
hairbrained project" which I have carried into execu- 
tion without leave or license ; but what better could I 
have done under existing circumstances ? The doctors 
said, " it was a sea-voyage, a southern residence, or the 
churchyard." For the latter, she will admit, I was not 
prepared, and the means adopted were the only ones in 
my power to secure either of the former ; for she well 
knows I would never condescend to accept as a gracious 
gift, what I knew to be my right ! I must confess, the 
consciousness of "youth and inexperience" did give me 
some needless uneasiness, though I hoped, by aid of my 
sables, ill health and consequent grave deportment, to 
pass for three or four years oldoi' than I really was 
(not expecting to remain long it nilade no difierence, you 
know) but soon found all appr^iension on that score 
entirely superfluous. Here at#the south a northern 
hirth is fully equivalent to more years than I have told; 
add to that the title of teacher or governess and you are 
at once installed in the honors of iive-and -twenty. I 
could relate sundry anecdotes in proof of this assertion ; 
but they are' better omitted ; for though strictly true, I 
know grandmother would credit the whole to my inven- 
tion and set me down as an incorrigible quiz, wanting 
in respect to her gray hairs. Rather than incur such a 
suspicion, I will obey her injunction a la lettre^ and 
report myself and pupils to the best of my ability ; and 
she may rely upon the accuracy of the statement, but 
must not flatter herself that it will prove very agreeable. 



22 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

The major, I am told, expresses a high opinion of me 
abroad, though I suspect his encomiums are little more 
than the echo of his oldest son's reuiaTKs. The latter 
is a young man about twenty, who having combined 
nearly all the talent of the family with a constitution 
too delicate for most masculine pursuits, has become a 
great genius in the estimation of his acquaintance, and 
a perfect oracle in that of his father. By way of under- 
writing his claims, I must say he wears his precocious 
honors with all humility; perhaps attending the law- 
school, in New Haven, has something to do with this ; 
but he certainly does not judge causes by their effects, 
or he would arrive at a very different conclusion. One 
of his sisters is naturally "sprightly," and in a section 
of country where children are not supposed to confer a 
favor by "going to school and learning their books," 
would make quite a respectable scholar ; as it is, that is 
a condescension hardly to be expected. As for the 
other daughters and the niece and ward of the Major, 
such is their inveterate dislike to "study," that never, 
of their own free will,#vould they tolerate in their pre- 
sence any one who ever mentioned "books" in their 
hearing. Still their reason forces them to yield an 
"all-unwilling confidence" to one who it seems is never 
to be permanently honored with their affection. This 
distresses, and would mortify me exceed ingty, did I not 
observe that, when "too sick to hear lessons," I am 
nursed by these same children with the utmost kindness, 
and am always first favorite through all the holidays 
except the two last, or last two, as your precisions will 
have it. But once in the school-room, a more stupid, 
ill-natured, captious set of ignoramuses never tried the 
patience of man or woman. Yet I manage to get along 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 23 

by setting down all these annoyances to the charge of 
an irltsome confinement. I cannot think of holding 
myself responsible for them, nor do I think it would 
be just to ascribe them to any natural perversity peculiar 
to the Misses under my care, but you will not fail to 
perceive, that under such a state of things, my present 
abode is destitute of every moral attraction which con- 
stitutes the charm of " home.-' How the system of 
domestic education ever came to be the choice of a man, 
too imbecile to control his children if he would, too indo- 
lent to do it if he could, I am utterly at a loss to deter- 
mine. Probably he never troubled himself to weigh 
the respective merits of the different systems ; and w^hen 
he has kept his daughters in the school-room the usual 
number of years, will have as little uncomfortable con- 
sciousness, that they are not altogether as enlightened 
as is at all essential for the feminine gender. Ten or 
twelve negroes are accomplishments enough for any 
lady, where the reputation of wealth, instead of exciting 
the expectation of finding in its possessor every embel- 
lishment of wdiich mind and manner is susceptible, 
supersedes the necessity of personal charms and mental 
culture altogether. " How many vile ill-favored faults 
look lovely in three hundred pounds a year!" Of the 
truth of this, the "niece and ward" is a case in point. 
She is as awkward a red-headed, blear-eyed, freckle- 
faced looking girl as you would wish to see ; yet she is 
called ^^ pretty ^^^ and is beginning to be quite a belle; 
and the fortunate wanner of this peerless prize will, no 
doubt, have the reputation abroad of having made the 
"best match," and married "the smartest woman in 
the county," and the further satisfaction of finding a 
slattern and simpleton at home. However, I shall be 



24 LETTEKS AND MISCELLANIES. 

greatly obliged to any gentleman who will take this 
" heiress" of ten thousand off my hands ; she is the 
oldest of my hopeful pupils, and wants a few days of 
being six months younger than myself. But 1 would 
not have Tier know this upon any account ; for then 
instead of the very dignified pedagogical personage I 
now appear, I should be only a mere hoyden like her- 
self. I fancy I hear grandmother's " enough without it 
is better," so take it for granted, I have her permission 
to devote the remainder of this sheet to your amuse- 
ment ; but must first remind you to acquit me of the 
blame of " evil-speaking," inasmuch as I did it "on 
compulsion." 

Your questions, my dear brother, are neither " trouble- 
some" nor " impertinent ;" on the contrary, I regard them 
as so many evidences of an inquiring mind, and as such 
they are truly welcome. My observation is too limited 
to allow of my pronouncing ex cathedra upon all your 
queries; but I see and hear enough every day to con- 
vince me that in the manner of "local phrases," the 
" Old Dominion" ma}^ compete very successfully with 
the " Land of the Granite," or rather of " Steady 
Habits." 

As proof is better than assertion, I will give a few 
examples by way of illustration. Just combine nomi- 
natives of every number and person with the third per- 
son singular of the verb — if you are not grammarian 
enough to do this, uncle J. or aunt K. will do it for 
you — and then if you do not ''''reckon^'' the arrange- 
ment superior to anything you are acquainted with, it 
will probably be for want of taste. Ask all questions 
with "A(9^ cum^^ answer disagreeable ones with "'^yer 
got no sense^'' apply '''' Tieajp^^ and '•'' right smart'^'^ to 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 25 

number, quantity and quality indiscriminately; and I 
dare say you will like it '''' inightily ^'' perhaps '''"might]) 
well indeed.'''' It has ever been fashionable to graft 
foreign idioms upon our own meagre vernacular, and 
the " mother tongue" in this immediate vicinity, ap- 
pears to have been considerably enriched by contribu- 
tions " toted'^'' here, from New Guinea " / reckonP 
And localisms are not, as at the north, confined almost 
exclusively to the lower classes ; as near as I can learn, 
they are common to all, but exclusive to none. 

The meed of "Hospitality" is doubtless well merited; 
individuals feel their own honor implicated when this 
state characteristic is called in question. Still I am in- 
clined to think their much vituperated, and little under- 
stood, system of domestic institutions, has more to do 
with this reputation than any other cause, or than all 
other causes put together. Its natural effect is to ex- 
clude the yeomanry, or middling rank in society, and 
divide the residue into gentry and peasantry. Now 
should this gentry exercise, individually, no more 
hospitality, or liberality, than the same number of their 
compeers in the free states, still an unusual number 
congregated in a given space gives to that locality an 
advantage which no other possesses ; and this, I believe, 
is the true exposition of '' Yirginia," or " Southern 
hospitality." 

The " style of living" difiers materially from that of 
the north, being much more expensive, though, as I 
think, far less comfortable. Bacon, not bread, is the 
" stafi" of life" — " fish, flesh and fowl," are made to 
supply the place of vegetables, most of which are ex- 
cluded from the bill of fare, or placed there merely for 
show. Everything is hoiled ox fried — beefsteaks not 



26 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

excepted — and comes to the table swimming in melted 
lard. Pastry and tea are seldom seen except upon 
great occasions ; and the coffee is ioferior in quality to 
what might be expected considering it is the constant 
beverage. Corn meal, cold water, and perhaps a little 
salt, are the only ingredients of bread ; yet this is hread 
''^ par excellence ;^^ that which you are accustomed to 
see, is denominated ''Higlit-'bread^^ and very lightly 
esteemed I do assure you in this part of the country. 
Indeed, I believe all Virginians think no mode of life 
but theirs, at all entitled to the name of living, and would, 
I dare say, be more surprised than ofiended, to find any 
one who had ever seen that to be of a contrary opinion. 
However, their excoriated pride would, no doubt, be 
mollified by the reflection, that a delicate invalid could, 
at best, be but a very indifierent judge of culinary 
affairs, and the probability that a person in robust 
health would form a very different estimate; but as the 
case now stands, they are welcome to my malediction 
upon the whole kitclien establishment — the ^^ melted 
lard'''' more particularly. 

Now in return for all this, 1 shall expect grandmother 
("honor bright," she instigated the catechism on this 
liead did she not); to retract in due form the sentence 
so often passed on a certain culprit who shall be 
nameless, of "having ^eyes and no eyes,' and being so 
stupid in everything pertaining to cookery, that to the 
day of her death she would never know whether people 
lived by eating or not, unless she happened to die of 
starvation !" She is now bound in common justice to 
make explicit recantation. I should like, of all things, 
to see her and some of these Yirginia paragons of 
housewifery, come in collision; till the state, and 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 27 

family, and personal pride of eacti was fully aroused, 
and see their rising wrath contend with their native 
dignit}^ and habitual courtesy — it would be ^^ one grand 
scene ^''^ worth all the farces ever written. But I can 
easily predict which side would bear ofi' the honors of 
war ; one who has a good temper, or a good control of it^ 
has always an advantage on these occasions which 
practice alone can ne/er give. And some of these 
Southern ladies (" oh tell it not in Gath"), do some- 
times — merely to diversify the monotony of domestic 
life I suppose — get up little whirlwinds and tornadoes 
of passion which, while they last, would make the in- 
fernal Ate turn pale with affright; and in north latitude, 
forty-five, eflectually close the doors of respectable 
society against these amateur representatives of the 
Furies ever after. 

As this is a well known fact, I trust it is no slander, 
though it may be gratuitous "evil-speaking;" and 
while so many lay the "flattering unction to their 
souls," that such conduct is the natural and iri^e- 
jpressihle ebullition of the "Tropical Temperament," I 
hope an obscure individual, like myself, may occasionally 
be allowed to " speak forth the words of truth and sober- 
ness," and call things by their proper names. I have 
long been looking, not on domestic life but into it, and 
the root of bitterness is there; though this " Tropical 
inftuence^^ is made "the mantle of charity" to cover 
"a multitude of sins." A broad one it must needs be, to 
shelter all who take refuge under its folds. Poor 
Cancer! His place will soon be no sinecure I fear, un- 
less some moral geographer arises to restore "the 
ancient landmarks! But when pa/reivts sufter their 
infant children, to vent, without check or restraint, the 



28 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

" venom of their spleen," alike on the venerably old 
and helpless young — the lordly master and lowly 
slave — what is to prevent their becoming fierce as the 
lightning in their hate, ruthless as the sword in their 
revenge? "Tropical temperament" indeed! Tropical 
nonsense more like! I tell you it is no such thing; it 
is want of domestic discipline^ and early mental train- 
ing! If it is the fault of nature and climate, how is it 
that when the season of childhood passes away and 
traits of character begin to strengthen and deejpen^ if 
the "still small voice" of conscience, or the dread laugh 
of derision, whispers you are miserable, and are mak- 
ing yourself ridiculous^ the admonition will be heard 
and heeded ; to the extent, at least, of repressing the 
troubled tide of feeling in public^ though its waters of 
bitterness may be lavished in private, on the defenseless 
heads whose interest it is to conceal the deadly fountain 
that poisons all their well-springs of existence. People 
may look vastly wise, and talk immensely silly, as all 
this rigmarole about "tropical temperament" goes to 
prove. Where nature makes one intractable, ungovern- 
able temper, mismanagement makes millions; and so 
you will find, should you live long enough to use your 
own eyes in preference to those of other people, and 
ever look beneath the surface of things. 

I did not intend reading you such a homily, but now 
I am "in the vein," it may not be amiss to throw out a 
few hints that will perhaps be of service in after life. 
On no subject in which woman is concerned, are men 
more solicitous than to discover the temper of their 
intended wives ; this is hnown^ consequently on no 
other are they more liable to be duped. Now if — in- 
stead of resorting to the meanness of intriguing with 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 29 

intimates and servants, or tlie puerile little strategies 
whose object is generally detected and of course de- 
feated — men would ohserve whether young ladies can 
deny themselves a desired article if necessary, or brook 
to be disappointed in their schemes, or find themselves 
second where they expected to be first, without putting 
themselves into what E. S. used to call " kerniption 
fits," or practicing any of those half playful, half petu- 
lant airs which gentlemen seem to think so interesting 
in young, and so odious in old women, they would be 
apt to come much nearer the truth. The hctbit of 
seif-govermnient is the thing ', with it, there is little 
danger that any body but the possessor will be incom- 
moded, be the temper what it may; without it there is 
no security ! Much seeming gentleness and amiability 
is all afiected — much real softness and pliability may be 
indurated or frittered away, when brought fairly in contact 
with the harsher realities of life; and much undisputed 
'''good nature'''' has no deeper root than gratified selfish- 
ness, and must eventually die for want of sustenance, 
or be kept alive at the expense of every body but the 
admired possessor. If a lady has too little self-control 
to restrict her taste in the purchase of what is to her un- 
suitable finery, or the use of it in an improper season — 
if she is too thoughtless to consult any body's feelings or 
convenience but her own, or too selfish to relinquish any 
gratification in her power to obtain — depend upon it, all 
her amiability, whether real or assumed, is of the kind 
that will "perish with the using;" though you may 
watch till doomsday, if you choose, without witnessing, 
unless by accident, any palpable outburst of temper. 
You are not going to see it if it occurs twenty times a 
day ; for simple as women are, they are generally 



30 LETTEKS AND MISCELLANIES. 

shrewd enough to " fool men to the top of their bent" 
in this matter; and those who do, will not be so mean, 
or so disinterested, as to play the informer, at the 
expense of being considered, by you and all your asso- 
ciates, as envious rivals or unprincipled slanderers for 
the balance of their days. Some one who knows hov/ 
uniformly men treat advice as wdtches do their prayers 
(that is to say, "read them backwards"), and is mali- 
cious enough to wish you entangled in the very net 
against which you are warned, may do it ; but / would 
hardly be magnanimous enough to tell a gentleman that 
his inamorata's name was Mary, if he fancied it Jane. 
However, should I chance to be mistaken about the 
" Tropics ;" it is to be hoped that you, a child of colder 
climes, will never become so ardent in imagination, as 
to suspect my vision of being sufficiently acute to look 
through a vista of ten or fifteen years (not to mention 
some five hundred miles), and consider these remarks, 
personal and invidious. 

This is a very long and singularly inappropriate letter 
to a boy ; but you will not always be a child, you know, 
and the moralizing which seems so dull to you now, may 
become interesting hereafter ; more especially should 
the hand that traced it ere then be cold in death. 

Give my best respects to grandmother, and all who 
take an interest in my welfare ; tell cousin Anne I 
have a great curiosity to see how her new name would 
look at the extreme verge of a sheet of "imperial ;" but 
no yankee chicanery about the thing, I am apt to grumble 
exceedingly at paying postage on blank paper. And 
if Evelyn and cousin Kate are really going to Ipswich 
they ought at least to bid me farewell, before they get 
so learned that it will become necessary to convene all 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 31 

the faculty of William and Mary's to explain and ex- 
pound, and reduce their epistles to the level of my 
comprehension. 

But in future, do not you, my dear brother, say any- 
thing more about " our old place." — I knew indeed that 
some such disposition must be made of it ; but not 
what exquisite pain it would give me to know that the 
house of my father had passed into the hands of a 
stranger. And never, oh never forget, that to me the 
only charm that hallowed the spot, was the memory of 
his buried love and the assurance of your living affec- 
tion ! That time and distance may have no power to 
sever the chain that binds us to each other, is the fervent 
piayer of your sister, 

Louise^ , 



LETTER III. 

DESULTORY GOSSIP. 

TO J. S., ESQ. 

Eagle Eyrie, Va., Dec. 20.— 

My Kind Uncle : 

Your last has been so long neglected that you may 
conclude I intend giving it " the go-by" entirely ; but 
instead of witnessing any such wicked resolve, no single 
week has passed since its reception, without inflicting 
the stings of remorse for this sin of omission. 

The hackneyed excuse, "nothing to write," is all I 
have to offer; and if that is not a good, I am sure it is 
a lasting one, and just as true now as ever. I know no 



32 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

positive advantage to be derived from the discussion of 
my " health;" it is rather better than it was, but how 
can any one expect to be well^ where ague-and -fever 
constitutes (as I believe it does) a part of the air, soil, 
and climate % To say the truth, I neither have nor 
expect ever to have j^^rf^c^ health, so the less said about 
it the better ; yet without the assistance of some such 
commonplace topic, full one half this sheet must remain 
a perfect blank; which, once for all, allow me to say I 
utterly detest. 

You probably expect to learn where I shall reside the 
ensuing year, and 1 should be glad to know myself; but 
it will most likely be at some point in the vicinity of 
New York, which will afford the advantage of sea 
breezes. I cannot tell precisely when I shall leave; but 
expect to remain till spring, and pass most of the inter- 
vening time fulfilling sundry engagements in the visit- 
ing line. 

In two daj^s more I shall be out of purgatory — you 
good Protestants are wont to sneer at this as fabulous, 
but I believe there are circumstances under which the 
most pragmatical might be convinced; and if ever I 
find it in my heart to imperil my happiness in like 
manner again, it shall beybr some object^ not merely to 
prolong an existence so worthless as mine. " Delight- 
ful task" indeed! Thompson would have been glad 
" to eat his own words," in less than twenty -four hours, 
by way of reprieve, had he ever submitted them to the 
test of experiment. At any rate, it is a deligJit I am 
very willing to dispense with ; and have not the slightest 
objection to turning out the oldest of my young " hope- 
fuls," and passing over the residue to the contemptible 
little son of Bacchus who ofl&ciates as music-master in 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 33 

the family and neighborhood. If their father chooses 
to commit the minds, and manners, and morals of his 
daughters to such a companionship, it is no concern of 
mine, you know. And after all it makes no difference — 
they are not sent to school to learn, only to be kept out 
of the way till they are old enough to *"' come out" and 
get married. If this is sarcastic, it is truth only that 
makes it severe. 

As my direction promises to be precarious after the 
current year, you will oblige me by requesting Mr. G. 
to discontinue my subscription until further orders. 
And if he insists on a literal interpretation of the 
" arrearages" clause, be so good as to advance whatever 
may be necessary to release me from its " durance vile;" 
incurred as follows. This State tolerates nothing less 
than five dollar bills; and not feeling exactly able to 
pay five, where only three were required, I inclosed (and 
sent by private conveyance as far as New York) a quarter 
eagle and fifty cents in silver, supposing — ignorant 
sinner that I was — that no postage would be levied on 
a communication addressed to a Post-Master, for the 
residue of the route; but the Post-Office Department 
had to be sustained, and the unfortunate aforesaid to 
contribute nearly half its contents to that laudable 
object. Don't you think now, I must possess an un- 
commonly forgiving disposition, to be scribbling non- 
sense this very blessed moment, for no earthly use but to 
increase the revenue ? 

I have not heard from Massachusetts for some months, 
this is partly chargeable, no doubt, to my having allowed 
Evelyn's last to lie so long " on the shelf." The truth 
is, I am serving them all to the same sauce they have 
been treating me with ever since I could remember ; and 



34 LETTEES AND MISCELLANIES. 

don't thinlv I should feel any compunctions visitings on 
that score, if liev letter were to lie over till the Fourth 
of July next. I have a strong notion of giving her a 
practical illustration of the old adage — ^'' it's a poor 
rule that don't work both ways." But I suspect I am, 
at best, no great favorite in that quarter; for beside 
com]3romising the olden dignity by condescending to 
enact governess, and being so profanely irreverent as 
not to make a most profound salaam at every mention 
of the " Pilgrim Fathers," I had once the effrontery to 
ridicule some of their scientitic machines, yclept "Female 
Seminaries," and express some apprehension lest the 
yankee genius of " improvement" should steal a march 
upon me, seize the Falls of Niagara and convert them 
into " a very eligible vmter pi'ivilege''^ before I get a 
peep at that world of waters and rainbows. Nor is 
this "the extent of my offending;" for it seems by 
Stanley's last (they surely keep " a journal where my 
faults are noted") that some time, " so long since that 
the memory of man runneth not to the contrary," I had 
the foolhardiness to assert that "the rocks and streams," 
" the hills and valleys of New England" were worth 
more " to point a paragraph and adorn a tale" than 
anything else; and what was worse, the impertinence 
to inquire if cousin Anne were in training to canvass 
votes for the next presidential campaign, that she was 
so sedulously studying popularity, under madam " the 
Dominie," and learning of her, the most approved 
method of playing the hypocrite secundum artem^ so as 
to make domestics, factory girls, and all of that genus, 
believe, no one ever doubted, that all men (and women 
too) were born "free and equal!" Of course I never 
dreamed that this persiflage could offend, but fear it has. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 35 

I had almost forgotten to say that the interesting, 
beautiful, agreeable nondescript, who accompanied me 
half-way here, called five or six weeks since, ostensibly 
to see me, but really to get a few days' board and 
lodging gratis — an exploit for which he is eminently 
qualified by nature and art. He said he was on his way 
to Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi ; but would return 
and attend me home if I would remain till April. 
Keally, were I ever so much at a loss for a cojnjpagnon 
du voyage^ I should hardly be over hasty in committing 
my precious self to the care of his worshipful authorship! 

Please tender my compliments, and the sight of this 
valuable evidence that theory does sometimes accord 
with practice — to such of your family as feel inte- 
rested in either ; and accept for yourself much love and 
many, many thanks for your unremitting kindness to 
the isolated orphan. 

Louise. 



LETTER lY. 

LIGHT AND SHADE. 

TO A LADY IN VIRGINIA. 

N. Y., Sept. 

My Dear Madam: 

Your kind favor, scrawled all over with post-marks 
and re-directions, has come to hand at last; and you 
cannot think how delighted I am that your interest in 
the erratic wanderer has survived so many months of 
separation. 



36 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

You ask, my dear friend, "Did yon revisit your 
home ?" No, I did not ; there is little there that I wish 
to behold — there is muck that I desire not to look upon ! 

The print of stranger footsteps now is in 
My cliildhood's haunts ! Dull, cold voices too 
Are on the summer air, once thrilling through 
Those halls to tones of mirth, or fond affection. 
And, oh, they fall like discord on a heart. 
That was, an instrument attuned at first 
To sweetest harmony; but made so soon. 
And often, to respond to one rude touch, 
That it can breathe, oh never, never more 
In music as 'twas wont ; but ever 
And anon, in wild, half-broken tones. 
Pours forth a requiem sad, to melody 
Departed ! 

I might not brook to tread my father's halls. 
An alien from his doors — a stranger on 
His very hearth ! I could not stand among 
The spirit's loved and unforgotten scenes — 
The complicated, countless things, that twine 
Around the heart from childhood up to age — 
Without the passing tribute of a sigh 
To all I loved, to all I lost; and cold 
Unsympathizing eyes were there, to bend 
Upon a brow, whose thoughts are tears — 
A tide too strong for pride to stem, or them to scan. 
Away, alone, unseen, I turn to weep ! 

But notwithstanding the "one fatal remembrance," 
I do not always enact Melpomene. There are moments, 
and those neither few nor far between, when you would 
suppose me the lineal descendant of Thalia, could you 
liear my light laugh floating on the breeze, in full chorus 
with that of the idlest set of vagrants who ever roamed 
the world in search of summer and sunshine, from the 
days of Will. Shakspeare, the poacher, till mine. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 37 

The season has passed rapidly, and, for the most part, 
delightfully, scrambling over hedges and ditches, flying 
from fresh water to salt — from salt water to fresh — in 
pursuit of health and butterflies, sea-shells and wild- 
flowers; and I have caught the goddess though the 
insect eluded my grasp, and laid up in store bright 
memories of happiness to illumine the dark vistas of the 
future, though I failed to preserve a cabinet of curiosi- 
ties to rise up in judgment as proof positive of my 
vagabond propensities. 

I fear my cidevant pupils would think me a sad romp 
could they see me now, that the supernumerary years, 
to which I had no claim, are dismissed upon parole, 
and my dignity cashiered for an indefinite period ; while 
I am rambling " o'er lake and lawn and lea," happy in 
the conscious ability to revel in their respective beauties, 
unmolested by a learned lecture on the propriety of 
" toting" about an ugly stone or hideous reptile because 
it hapjjens to have an uglier name. Through the mag- 
nificent drapery which invests creation, I behold radia- 
tions of that Divinity which presides over all; every 
item in its folds is a gem of worth, a thing of fair flow- 
ers or soft fragrance, of bright leaves and gorgeous 
coloring — worthy to be the work of a God! But if 
name in the place of feeling — the varnish of art for the 
gloss of nature — words, mere words subversive of 
thought, must be allowed to cast their blighting spell 
on the fair flower's loveliness — if it must be botanized, 
and analyzed, and sentimentalized, take it away — it is 
no longer the peerless little gift of a munificent Creator; 
you have degraded it to a thing of art, and forms, and 
names (one can hardly spell, and whose pronunciation 



38 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

I never expect to achieve) you are welcome to your 
handiwork — take it away ! 

Thank fortune, I am now free to abuse the encyclo- 
pedia and ''king's English" to my heart's content; for, 
"heaven help our worthy chaperons, they are by far 
the wildest of the party, and there is neither botanist, 
nor naturalist, nor journalist among us ; nor do I believe 
the whole posse comitatus could produce an album on 
pain of excommunication from caste % While there is 
no " cliiel amang us takin' notes," there is no danger 
of being " written down," so every one is free to " gang 
his own gait" and enjoy himself after his own fashion ; 
and " the saddest emotion our bosom e'er knows is pity 
for those who are wiser than we f^ more especially for 
poor hag-ridden mortals who are all their lifetimes in 
bondage to a set of outlandish fellows called Murray, 
Blair, Walker, Kaimes, and so on ad infinitum. It 
can't be denied but this life of ours does approximate 
rather nearly to the savage state ; but then 1 always did 
feel a decided predilection for that, whenever either of 
the aforesaid clansmen, albums, or botanists crossed my 
path. It seems to me they have no business in such a 
glorious world as this, where the hand of Omnipotence 
has inscribed a poetry of its own, that leaves its records 
on the heart. Let the flying tourist and enervate wan- 
derer in steamboats and carriages pass — its nobler pas- 
sages are too reclierclie for him, they must be felt as 
well as seen, loved before they can be appreciated — but 
let him who will, tamj till the spirit of the place has 
passed into his heart and lives again in his song ! Till 
then let Genius stand reproved in the majesty of a Supe- 
rior Presence, and Art retire humbled and abashed 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 39 

from the scene ere the spirit of Beauty mock and deride 
his impotent efforts to copy her works or embody her 
loveliness. 

You think me an enthusiast on the scenery of New 
York ; but the cradle of my infancy, the home of my 
childhood, it is no common spot ; and though from the 
very hearthstone of my father, there breathed the sirocco 
of a desert heart on his child, it could not wholly blight 
a spirit alive to the bland and invigorating influence of 
nature, as exhibited in her earth and her skies : and 
with these I could ever hold communion when told that 
the avenues of human sympathy were closed against 
me! 

It may be that this faculty too was given for my 
bane — well be it so — if the pleasure to which it gives 
birth be as evanescent as exquisite, the better the reason 
I should haste to enjoy while I may ! But a day like 
this sadly disconcerts the scheme and forces me to 
reflect — on my own gorgeous life-visions, prematurely 
dissipated — a noble brother, "my beautiful, my brave," 
sacrificed on the shrine of avarice and unnatural preju- 
dice ; and, worse than all, the nothing I have done — the 
little I can ever do, to redeem the promise of the child 
to the sleeping infant. The very effort seems like the 
osier instructing the oak how to keep the perpendicu- 
lar ! Yet it shall be made, though all my untold, nn- 
sated powers of enjoyment, should be molten down into 
one stern power to suffer and endure ; for henceforth it 
is not in the cloud or the storm that I look to feel the 
full bitterness of my doom. When the meridian sun 
lavishes his beams, unconscious that one human heart is 
breaking in a world irradiated by his smile — when the 
" electric chain is struck mid the garish splendor of the 
4 



40 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

festal hall — then, then it is that I shall realize how sad 
it is to feel the winter of age settling down forever on 
the heart, while the first summer of youth is yet bright on 
my brow ; and tJiinh how much more desolate had been 
the lone, lone dwellers of the ark, had they returned to 
find a depopulated world rejoicing in its young luxu- 
riance and wearing its accustomed garniture. But no — 
Nature in all her wide domains was mourning for her hap- 
less children, the glorious, though degenerate '' sons of 
God and daughters of men," and in that silent sympathy 
there was companionship. Yet oh, how little is there 
of it, where the votaries of fashion and pleasure most 
love to congregate — how few of all, who " flatter, smile, 
and woo," can bide the "dark hour" or listen to the 
querulous accents of despondence without hinting, that 
if there be " but one step between the sublime and 
ridiculous," there is less than one between the senti- 
mental and lackadaisical : few, indeed, " and by con- 
flicting powers forbidden here to meet," or I should not 
now resort to a medium like this, and feel how inade- 
quate is the channel to convey the full, deep tide of 
thought. 

" TJie gods avert''^ all such " accurst familiars," 
" thick coming fancies, and exquisite sensibilities from 
you and yours, is the earnest wish of your incongruous 
" two-souled" friend, 

Louise. 



FAKEWELL TO A FRIEND. 

Thou wilt " go home" — then speed thy way, 
No voice of mine shall bid thee " stay;" 
Though years may pass, nor bring a smile 
So soft as thine — so free from guile. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 41 

The shades of home — what flowers more fair 
Can earth display than blossom tliere? 
Say, wilt thou there, the mem'ry keep 
Of her, who has no home to seek ! 
Sept. 25. IsoLE. 



LETTER V. 

ADVICE AND EEMONSTKANCE, 

TO A BROTHER. 

O , N. Y., May, 1833. 

My Dear Brother: 

I have just received a letter from Evelyn, in which 
she speaks of your recent meeting and the wish you 
then expressed to hear from me oftener. Rest assured 
it is not indifference that holds my hand, or neglect that 
restrains my pen : 

" My brother ! Though my heart is cold 
And tame, to what 'twas wont to be; 
Still to the music of thy name 
Vibrates one chord, which yet is free 
From the benumbing influence 
Which hath in torpor wrapped each sensa 
The only heart that ever turned 
With undiminished love to mine — 
Which never my affection spurned; 
But loves me still — is thine ! 
And oh, how sweet to know that yet 
In this cold world is beating still. 
One heart, which will not mine forget 
Though darkly rise the clouds of ill : 
But thou, my brother — thou, whose path 
A sister's fondness deemed would be 
Far from the sullen gloom which hath 



42 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Long o'er her own formed heavily — 

The promise of whose gifted mind 

I 've marked with all a sister's pride; 

Deeming the riches there enshrined 

Would mock thy power to hide — 

That yet, around thy cherished name, 

Some future day of pride should see 

The fresh and fadeless wreath of fame 

Entwined — eternally : 

Oh, must these dreams be vain, and thou 

Be doomed to share so dark a fate; 

And thy aspiring spirit bow, 

And droop beneath misfortune's weight ? 

Ah no, a milder doom be thine, 

A brighter star arise for thee; 

Then shall my spirit not repine 

"Whate'er my destiny ! 

If bright, or dark, it matters not. 

Few look with interest on my lot; 

For I am one, whose memory 

Soon dies within the hearts of others; 

I care not — it is nought to me 

So I but live in thine, my brother's! 

If cold oblivion's breath should sweep 

From hearts I love all trace of me, 

Oh, still in thine, my brother, keep 

Undimmed, the memory of one. 

To whom this world could never give 

A dearer hope to rest upon. 

Than this :" 

But who would rather sacrifice even this, than the 
hope, so long and so fondly cherished, of one day seeing 
your name enrolled among the noble, the wise, and the 
mighty of the land. 

Say not this is an enthusiast's dream — ^it must be ful- 
filled. 1 know it will cost much exertion — what of 
that — does your present employ promise a life of indo- 
lent repose ? I know there are difiiculties to encounter, 
obstacles to remove — they must be met, firmly and 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 43 

fearlessly ! I also know, that I am sinning, past hope 
of absolution, against the dictates of ''^common pru- 
dence'^ — what then ? Should I call down the anathe- 
mas of all her votaries, on my own reckless ambition, 
shall I be lightly turned, think you, from a purpose, I 
would give all but the fee-simple of my soul to accom- 
plish ? You know it is not in the nature of " things 
possible !" Your prospective career has roused even 
Evelyn from her torpor — her lethargy is over — the "iron 
gyves," which ill-judging kindness bound round every 
faculty of her nature, are fallen off — she stands up once 
more, in the native dignity of a mind regenerated, re- 
deemed, disenthralled ! And most nobly has she come 
forward to break down, with her own hand, the barrier 
which an indiscriminating and unjustifiable partiality 
strove to erect between her and her nearest of kin ! Let 
no allusion of ours recall its existence. True, the im- 
pressions of a lifetime are not to be effaced at will ; but 
if we cannot forget, let us remember only to love and 
admire the true nobility of soul that would not be 
debased! Many a one that rises the prouder for the 
conflict with oppression might utterly succumb under 
the enervating influence of inertia and weak indulgence ; 
but such a one is not she — in any plan that can be de- 
vised for your benefit, her co-operation is certain, yours 
only is doubtful. If that is not wanting, I care not now 
with whose opposition I may have to contend; but I 
recoil, with the cold, sickening sensation of despair, 
from the apprehension that you may shrink from the 
necessary exertion — that your once lofty spirit may have 
become assimilated to your lowly destiny. But no, it 
is not, cannot be so ! Evelyn speaks of your " manly 
form and sedate aspect," and I know the source of such 



44 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

premature gravity all too well, not to believe that youth- 
ful brow, " so calm yet sad," a better index to your 
heart, than your tongue ever was, when it reported you 
"contented" (for shame!) and "cheerful" in the condi- 
tion to which a narrow-minded policy has consigned 
you. I know not in whose sagacity that measure origi- 
nated ; but I do know I had rather that man had gone 
to the grave than my darling brother to the anvil. Be 
he who he may, he shall find " I bide my time" and 
will not always brook to be thwarted in my purpose ! 

I love you, dear Stanley, and always shall, be your 
occupation what it may ; but I cannot bear to see you 
sacrificed thus! I cannot endure the idea that my 
father has no son t© give back to the world that promise 
of pre-eminent usefulness and ornament which sleeps in 
his early grave! You bear his name, will you make 
no efibrt to rescue it from oblivion ? Resolve that you 
will^ and that resolve will be a prophecy that shall 
work its own fulfillment. It requires no small moral 
courage, I know, for a boy like you to act in open defi- 
ance of the express will and pleasure of those he has 
been accustomed to honor and obey ; but when ascen- 
dency over the mind of a child is made the instrument 
of his oppression — ^^J 1% time it should cease. State 
your feelings and intentions modestly but firmly ; then 
if you find them ultimately disapproved, give the dis- 
sentient to understand, that by " advioe''^ people some- 
times mean GonGurrence; and that you do not consider 
asking a man's opinion a positive promise to abide by 
his decision. 

If Mr. D. is the gentleman you and Evelyn represent 
him, there will be no opposition on his part; but if 
Shylock-like, he insists on " the letter of the bond," his 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 45 

pound he must have — time is of more vahie to 3'ou than 
money. Settle it in your own mind that nothing shall 
deter you from your purpose, and Industry^ ardent, in- 
flexible and untiring, will bring it to a successful issue. 
With such splendid names as Franklin, Jefferson, 
Chancellor Kent, and William Wirt, inscribed by its 
hand on the page of your country's history, say if you 
can that my scheme is chimerial, my expectation hope- 
less ! But as familiar examples are always most potent, 
allow me to remind you, that the distinguished Prof. 
S is said once to have learned the tanner and cur- 
rier's trade; and your much, and justly admired Mr. E. 
that which you are now acquiring. They had no in- 
centive of an honorable name on the wane; yet where 
are they now? " What man has done man may do^"^ 
80 do not sit down and compile a volume of excuses for 
inaction ; nor is it at all essential for you to soil any 
fair white paper endeavoring to convince me, that to 
you, especially, the path to all honorable distinction is 
perfectly inaccessible. I shall not be persuaded any more 
than yourself! Up then and be doing, or you will lose 
both time and labor. What if the hill of science be steep 
and high — the ascent toilsome and difficult — " know- 
ledge is power," and the acquisition paramount to the 
exertion. Assertions to the contrary are, in my opinion, 
nothing more than the " It is naught, it is naught," of 
the buyer, or the "• sour grapes" of the disappointed 
aspirant. But whatever else you may do, do not waver 
and hesitate and procrastinate till it is indeed too late. 
I have taken this preliminary off your hands. Two 
years of doubt and indecision are enough to waste upon 
any subject, and I have bestowed more than that on the 
one before you. 



46 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

What if you should suppose I overrate your talents, 
does it follow of course that my estimate is incorrect 1 
You will neither respect me more, nor love me better, 
when 1 say that in years that are passed, I have often 
excited and exasperated you to the utmost, in order to 
see what stamina you were of — but it is even so — I 
have done this, and the result was perfectly satis- 
factory: you are fully adequate to the task imposed. 
What! shall men cast out upon the world in the very 
hour of their birth, indebted even to charity for the 
very names by which they designate themselves, shall 
they reach forth their hands and grasp the highest 
honors their country can give; and will you^ gifted with 
the might of intellect, lie down in contented obscurity, 
and suffer the 'thick-coming clouds of oblivion to 
envelope all your name and race? My brother! I de- 
sire nothing of you I would not gladly perform myself — 
I ask you to encounter no difficulty I w^ould not grapple 
with fearlessly, yes joyfully ! I urge you to no effort it 
would not be my pleasure and pride to accomplish, if I 
only might. Might 1 but write Louis instead of Louise, 
then should my hand and foot soon be "in that stern 
strife which leads to life's high places ;" but this may 
not be — upon you devolves the right to become your 
father's worthy successor in more than name. Nerve 
your spirit to this, bring every faculty, moral and 
physical, to bear upon this point, and it will be attained. 

l^ever stop though to quarrel with me for giving every- 
body's thoughts a tongue, in rating a trade as inferior to a 
liberal profession. I do assure you, I never made the 
world, but merely took it as I found it; and shall never 
dream of setting up for a reformer unless furnished with 
most authentic credentials of my divine mission. As 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 47 

these are not forthcoming, the world will e'en have to 
"go on as it used to do when it was a boy ;" for I have 
no intention of giving it my supervision. 

Above all let no pecuniary considerations distress you ; 
Evelyn has avowed her intention of " eating no longer 
the bread of idleness," and you know when once de- 
cided she is fixed as the north star. She will soon 
" leave school, and go south, or west, to see if she can 
turn her acquirements to any account." In no case will 
she "any longer appropriate to her own exclusive use, 
funds which should be common to all; though if you 
accept, she will still receive them, and thus cajole his 
wisdom, the executor, who has the impertinence to sup- 
pose that minors cannot possibly have arrived at "years 
of discretion." /hold it a specially wise and merciful 
interposition of Providence that law and lawyers have 
been raised up conferring it, at a certain age^ on some 
people who might otherwise never have attained it 
at all. 

The minimum of our father's estate, which was, you 
know, assigned to me, has long been devoted, in thought, 
to this object; what better use can 3^ou make of 3^our 
share? It is not capital enough to establish you se- 
curely in any lucrative business ; but I have ascertained 
from the best authorities, that one with your resources 
at command, is amply furnished for a professional as well 
as collegiate course. Think calmly of all this, and 
weigh well your advantages before you weakly de- 
termine to reject them. 

Evelyn intimates that you report yourself as " very 
deficient in penmanship," by way of excuse for being 
so idle a correspondent ; if this be so, why the greater 
the need ior practice — the wider the field for cultivation, 



48 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

the more imperious the necessity that impels you on- 
ward. Never let your aversion to anything get the 
mastery of your better judgment. Are you a man, 
and succumb to such a womanly weakness? Brother 
of mine, and suffer the iron heel upon your neck to 
grind you forever in the dust? Son of your father, and 
lie down in hopeless apathy and imbecility, when all 
that is noble and endearing in life, call upon you to 
awake to the sleepless energy of thought ? 

Your own and ever affectionate 

Sister. 

ELEGIAC LINES. 

Let others trace the obsequious line 

Along the marble's cold expanse; 
The only eyes that ever spoke to mine 

Affection's tale in every glance ; — 

The only voice whose accents never fell 

Like discord on my youthful ear — 
The only breast whose gentle swell 

Told what a fount of love was welling near ; — 

The one loved hand that oft clasped mine. 
Or lay in silent blessing on my head; 

My noble father, these were thine, 

And thou, hast long been with the dead. 

I know thy smile was all the light 

That lay upon my pathway here: — 
But words — vain words on marble, will they 

Wake the sleeper in the sepulcher ? 

Let others trace the hackneyed line, 

And measure grief by rules of art ; 
Thy mem'ry hath a holier shrine, 

'Tis graven deeper on the heart: 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 49 

And ruthless time shall never sweep 

From mem'ry's page one trace of thee, 
'Nov chill the love that bends to weep 

O'er all it lost in losing thee. 

Sleep on — I would not have thee heed 

Of sorrowing heart and weary lot the tale. 

That stranger eyes oft turn to read 
In ray dim eye and cheek so deadly pale. 

'Twould shade thy angel brow to learn 

How lowly is thy children's lot ; — 
How fondly e'en in youth tliey yearn 

For that blest home where care comes not. 

Still! be thou still! I would not break 

The silence that should linger here- 
Sleep on — sleep on — I would not wake 

The dreamer in this lowly sepulcher ! 

Auff., 1833. 



LETTER VI. 

SUPPLEMENT TO THE PRECEDING ONE. 

O N.Y.,Nov. 1833. 

Dear Stanley: 

The offer of a private conversance indnccs me to com- 
mence a hasty reply to yonr last, though it is " past 
ten," and my health scarcely equal to late hours after 
social excitement ; but when your interest is at stake, 
mental and physical exhaustion should alike be for- 
gotten; what are they, when laid in the balance with 
aught that can minister to your pleasure, or your profit? 

Your last, my dear brother, has given me more 
pleasure than I had experienced for months before its 



50 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

reception; for it tells me what I most desired to learn. 
Thank God, yom- mind is not bowed down to the level 
of yom- fortunes — you "do feel their degradation" 
though you " fear every efibrt to escape, would only 
ensure a mortifying defeat !" But let me ask you my 
dear brother, do you expect to shelter yourself behind 
your dark doctrine of " Fate," and silence the restless 
spirit in your own bosom, and the untiring remonstrance 
of your far ofi* sister, with " 7^; is my destiny V Be- 
lieve it not, while the free spirit God has given con- 
tinues to animate your form, it wdll rebel against the 
tyranny that is trampling its aspiring energies in the 
dust. Hope it not, when the clods of the valley lie 
heavy on a heart that beats only for j^ou, the voice that 
now implores you to be just to yourself, will be silent 
forever, but not till then will I relinquish the one hope 
that has long been my sole guiding star, through all the 
dark maze of a wayward existence. 

I know nothing of the piratical worthy you quote; 
but as to his gift of second sight, excuse me if I am — 
not quite an audacious misbeliever! His talents had 
no doubt been denied their legitimate exercise, until the 
fever of the heart grew, as it often does, almost to mad- 
ness ; and then he brooded over the history of jDiracy, 
till the charm which danger always flings round 
hazardous enterprise was converted into a "spell;" 
and the deluded victim of a distempered fancy, took 
the most efficient means of accomplishing his own 
high destiny. The same causes would, in nine cases 
out of ten. undoubtedly produce the same effect; at least 
I see nothing mysterious in this thing called second 
sight to puzzle the learned or unlearned withal ! It 
seems to me neither more nor less than the phospho- 



I 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 51 

rescence emitted by the oscillations between gvsnius and 
madness; and what is there so very inexplicable in all 
that? There are other mental phenomena which would, 
it' well considered and only a little less common, seem 
equally strange: as, for instance, how any one that is 
sane can expect to continue so, if he persists in forcing 
his brain into an unnatural channel, and denying it its 
proper and essential aliment. A fish, or a bird might 
do better in some other element, but I doubt it; at all 
events rivers do sometimes run clear, but who ever saw 
a canal that did ? 

I can tell you what I have seen though, and that was, 
an amalgam of wounded pride, reserve, and irresolu- 
tion, vainly trying to shuffle off all responsibility upon 
'"'' desti^iy ;'^ but never tell me again that you ''^ were not 
horii'^ to emulate tlie honored Sons of Industry and In- 
tellect. What if they have achieved "an eminence so 
lofty," I do not insist that you shall hurl them from 
spheres which are filled, nobly and well. I am glad 
to hear you acknowledge their supremacy ; for, in 
these days, when every one is trying to take precedence 
of his betters, it is no small merit to know one's place 
and keep it; but are you quite sure you have found 
yours? Never fear though, that I intend nominating 
you for the presidency this year, or next — it is not 
the proper time — but I do intend to convince you that 
your present occupation is one in which you can never 
hope to be happy, or even contented. This ought to be 
easily done, after your own admission that " you were 
always averse to the business," that it "is not congenial 
to your taste, and becomes every day more and more 
irksome to your feelings ;" — heoause you are conscious 
of " gradually descending lower and lower in the scale 



52 LETTEKS AND MISCELLANIES. 

of social and intellectual beings." And yet you pause, 
and fear ! Why not hope ? And how, with such a con- 
fession on your lips, will you parry the question, or 
excuse, even to yourself, the unmanly weakness of re- 
maining a moment longer than necessary, in a thraldom 
so degrading ? You cannot, you will not ! 

Mr. D. certainly merits all your encomiums; " when 
self the balance shakes, 'tis rarely right adjusted," and 
even I must admit that his proposition is not only 
liberal, but expedient. I had forgotten, until he sug- 
gested it, that " a sudden chano;e from active to seden- 
tary life, might injure your health and prove ruinous to 
our schemes." Let your improvement of the time and 
advantages placed at your disposal, evince that his 
generosity has not been lavished on an undeserver. 
Use them, my dear brother, as if every moment lost 
were a fortune squandered. It is, I know, unwelcome 
advice which says to youth — absent yourself from the 
young and gay, and therefore 1 will not give it; but 
attach yourself closely to books, and you will find that 
happiness does not consist in the noisy mirth of rude 
associates. To me, the most exceptionable feature in 

Mr. D 's plan, is, that it must necessarily detain 

you another year or more in New England ; for, in 
sober earnest, I do dread your " falling unawares" into 
the yankee custom from time immemorial; namely, 
entering into the most important contract in your power 
to make, one too, which cannot be annulled without 
forfeiture of your reputation as an honorable man, at 
an age when the law nullifies pecuniary transactions, 
on account of '^ immaturity of judgment." These 
''long engagements" are objectionable in every point 
of view; they hang like dead weights on any enter- 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 53 

prise that requires the undivided energies of character, 
are generally contracted with a man's, or rather a hoy-s 
equal, if not superior, in years ; and eventually become 
irksome to one party in proportion as their perpetuity 
is indispensable to the happiness of the other. I did 
not remain quite long enough in Virginia, to imbibe the 
southern notion, that a man should be old enough for 
his wife's father, neither do I give in to the New Eng- 
land system (as elucidated by practice), that it is imma- 
terial which has the seniority. "7Z n^y a que New 
York que toujoitrs la raison;^''* a man should be older 
than his wife; though, were I lawgiver, ten years 
should be about the limit of disparity. Here at the 
north, ^t'e would answer; but a few years more or less 
are not so important after all, as some other matters. 
JS^ow you cannot expect free admission into your former 
and appropriate circle, yet no member of any other can 
be to you a desirable companion, least of all a female. 
Some there may be, beautiful in person and fascinating 
in manner; but were they well-born, intelligent, refined, 
pure and high-minded^ as the companions of my brother 
should be, they would not be found in a subordinate 
sphere. But allowing the lady to be the sublimated 
essence of all feminine attraction, a matrimonial en- 
tanglement, whether near or more remotely prospective, 
would in your case, prove the death blow to all lofty 
aspiration; and you would, when too late, hate the in- 
nocent cause of your blighted hopes, with an intensity, 
bitter as shame, disappointment, and crushed ambition 
could engender ! 

But enough of this — I fear you have already had a 

* It is only New York that is always in the right. 



64 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

surfeit of good advice, so to change the subject, allow 
me to say how much I was gratilied by the improvement 
evinced in your last. With the exception of a few grave 
errors in orthography, and some trifling ones in punctua- 
tion and direction — the latter intended to be quizzical, I 
suppose, though the exterior is not exactly the place for 
such things — the matter and manner of the whole would 
have been creditable to almost any one. Indeed I was 
quite amused at the sang-froid with w^iich you state 
your grievances, and inquire " where I picked up so 
much outlandish lingo" — why among beaux, novels, 
newspapers, and such like good company — where else 
do you suppose ? You know very well that I know 
nothing in fact of la langue Francois ; but must not 
expect me to mend my ways, or regret all the study 
" these pestilent phrases" have cost you. Did it never 
occur to you that they were inserted for that very 
purpose, not for display, or to exercise the yankee pre- 
rogative of ^'' guessing V The sentinels on the ram- 
parts of the " King's English" do, to be sure, declaim, as 
becomes them, in a style of lofty invective against 
having the immaculate purity of vernacular corrupted by 
these foreign interlopers ; but I am not responsible for 
their introduction, and now that they are admitted, it is 
nearly as necessary they should be made to pass for 
exactly what they are worth, and no more, as to know 
that two and two make four. 

As a sojourner among " the everlasting yankee 
nation," it is reasonable to suppose you have an extra 
horror of impostors, wooden nutmegs, and other abomi- 
nations; so compassionating your situation, I insert, in 
a pocket lexicon, a leaf from Webster's Spelling-book, 



LETIIEKS AND MISCELLANIES. 65 

which will assist in unmasking a few of these formid- 
able incognitte. 

Tlie former, I know, yoii will value more as my gift, 
than for its own intrinsic beauty or value, but permit me 
to remind you that it is designed for iise^ not show, 
and entreat, that henceforth you will suffer no word 
with whose orthography, and import, you are not 
thoroughly au fait^ to escape you, until both are 
indelibly impressed on your memory. If you were to 
keep a common-place book, and transcribe, in a legible 
hand, every word and definition for which you had oc- 
casion to look, you would soon find the habit beneficial 
in more ways than one. Among other things, it would 
insure some little practice in penmanship ; and should 
your next specimen exceed the last, as much as that did 
its predecessor, I shall soon have occasion to blush for 
such a heathenish looking scrawl as this. I am some- 
thing mortified as the case now stands, and can sympa- 
thize very feelingly with your " stifi' fingers ;" mine 
will not readily relax after this long contraction. 

Past twelve, so good night, and pleasant dreams to 
you, my dear brother. 

Votive ScBur Louise. 

EPITHALAMIUM. 

WRITTEN FOR A YOUNG FRIEND. 

Now joy be thine, ray noble brother, 

For thou hast won a gifted bride ; 
And tlie heart that never loved another 

Is throbbing fondly at thy side. 

The charm of youth may not endure, 

Earth's finest gold has some alloy; 
But that trusting heart, so high and pure, 

Is wealth — and thine — I give thee joy! 



56 • LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

LETTER VII. 

METAPHYSICS AND OTHER VAGARIES. 

H. Mass., Jan., 1834. 

Dear Evelyn: 

A LITTLE gossip or nonsense is, you know, very re- 
freshing, but the dupHcate is intolerable; so I shall 
abandon "interesting items" to the regular residents, 
throw the reins to my good steed, La Plume^ and just 
follow wherever its mother instinct leads. 

You ask for a portrait of your friend — a careless out- 
line is all I can give — and should that displease, you 
must blame the curiosity that procured a bad likeness, 
not the unskillful limner. She talks, I think, less non- 
sense than most people — and that is no small compli- 
ment, considering that she talks all the time — has some 
amusing, but no bad, and many estimable qualities, for 
which I esteem her highly. And then, again, she 
piques herself upon some others which she has not; — 
firmness of character, for instance, to which a weather- 
vane has just as much pretension, and rather more, for 
that does stand still when it rusts down. 

She looks upon all young ladies as her special pro- 
teges, and an admirable chaperone she would make, for 
that is her forte; but having assumed the style and 
title of governess long before my schoolmates came out, 
she must excuse me from addicting myself to leading- 
strings just now. Yet none the less for that do I feel 
obliged by the interest she takes in my welfare, despite 
a lurking suspicion that it is given chiefly to your sister ; 
and a little owing perhaps to my being sucJi a gem of a 
listener. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 57 

But, give up Shakspeare, and Walter Scott, with all 
their world of bright imaginings — cut the acquaintance 
of Bulwer and his most magnificent villains — see noth- 
ing charming in Halleck — be blind to the beauties of 
Irving, and Cooper, and Sedgwick, and "Paulding the 
witty" — no, I can't think of the thing! 

Nobody but a father or husband should ever control 
me in this, and in the latter case, I think any sensible 
legislature would grant a divorce. So you see mine is 
a hopeless case — I am quite incorrigible ! " 

"Illusions! illusions! exclaims the philosopher — yes 
ILLUSIONS ; but without them, how many would know 
nothing of life but its real misery ! " Thank you, friend 
author, whoever you are, and don't doubt but you 
are a much better philanthropist than those would-be- 
philosophers, who are perpetually railing at the splendid 
creations of human intellect, as if it were d'lsjpar aging 
to the nature of man, and totally beneath his dignity 
to be amused for a moment Avith anything, however 
plausible or ingenious, that does not stand the test of 
mathematical demonstration. With what contemptuous 
pity does one of these "Sir Owls" look down from his 
fancied elevation on the deluded mortal who honestly 
believes the world has enough of cloudy weather, with- 
out his castino; the shade of a frownins^ brow over its 

CD O 

little remaining sunshine. Yet I, for one, believe these 
arrogant pretenders to superior wisdom and sanctity, as 
deficient in real benevolence and genuine taste, as are 
their opposites in prudence and sound judgment; and 
that all this afifected scorn for the flights of imagination, 
is only in fair guerdon for the neglect with which that 
fantastic divinity has been pleased to treat their wor- 
shipful selves. 



68 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

What better reason can be assigned for the boorish 
contempt with which the finel^^ imaginative doctrine 
of tiie transmigration of souls is ahnost universally 
treated ? But is absurdity its only characteristic ? Is 
there nothing sublime in the spectacle of an immortal 
mind groping through the dark mists of superstition for 
the day-spring of that light which, though emanating 
from heaven, was still too faint to show^ clearly the way 
to its portals? Is it strange that eyes dim with "hope 
deferred," should be dazzled even to blindness, by the 
flash of that other light which is ever too prone to lead 
astray ? Is there no redeeming feature in a system 
whose exceeding beauty can at times make the wisest 
and best almost wish to revert to the darkness of pagan- 
ism, and revel unmolested in those glorious dreams 
which constitute much of that buoyancy of spirit which 
invests the past with happiness, the present with hope, 
the future wdth promise ! 

The duration of these splendid visions is commonly 
limited to the period of early youth ; but why should 
they be so evanescent, -unless it is, that the scenes of 
another and brighter sphere, are fresher and greener in 
the heart, before the dull clouds of reality have obscured 
the soft light of memory, wdiich sheds its halo of un- 
earthly brightness over every dim-remembered scene of 
that hallowed home: — and the w^eary eye, closing on 
this every-day world and its commonplace beings and 
vicissitudes, gathers new brightness from the gorgeous 
sunlight that ilhimes every remembered vista in that 
far-ofi' but unforgotton land, whose inhabitants^ not " of 
earth, earthy," have something higher, and holier, and 
brighter, and purer, than ever meets the gaze of the 
bewildered exile in this dull creation, w^here every trace 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 59 

of its pristine splendor seems fast waning to disappear?* 
Who has never been startled from such a revery — per- 
chance by the accents of his dearest earthly friend — nor 
felt that the foot of a mortal had "profaned the haunt 
of the fairies ?" And what right has one individual to 
dictate to another, and lay an interdict on every train 
of thought that does not accord precisely with his pre- 
concei\ ed opinions or peculiar temperament ? He who 
can find "a local habitation and a name" for his edi- 
fices on terra firma, is welcome there to erect them, if so 
he please; but what business has he to hinder his neigh- 
bor from building his "castles in the air," when he has 
nowhere else to put them ? 

"Let saints interdict, and let sages revile 
The sportive creations that fancy supplies ; 
Oh, still let her baseless enchantments beguile. 
And veil the bleak prospect of truth from ray eyes. 

" When realities torture 'tis wise to forget — 
When sorrows assail us, to fly from their sting ; 
For fancy can soften the sigh of regret 
And bear us from anguish on fairy-formed wing. 

" Then still let the fancied enjoyments you spurn 
Snatch me from the horrible grasp of despair ; 
I escape from my sorrows too soon to return, 
And frenzy's a kinder impostor than care ! " 

But a word in your ear, my dear sister ; as you hope 
never to realize the full force of that last line, let no 
living illustration of Locke's Theory of Ideas ever get 

*lf this IS "like Wordsworth," perhaps the writer OM^Ai to feel flat- 
tered, if she doesn't ; but any author she has read, is welcome to take 
pencil and mark his property wherever he can find it; it is more thau 
she can always do. 



60 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

hold of this ; otherwise — the will and power being com- 
mensurate — I should have to grace the saloons of an In- 
sane Hospital, or advocate the cause of mental halluci- 
nation before the inmates of a Lunatic Asylum in 
future ! However, "one song to thee" before I go; and 
we'll call it — 

THAT OTHEE HOME. 

I PINE for the land of my early dreams, 

And scenes not dimly remembered then : — 
They were gorgeous things, those skies and streams, 

Their like is not found 'mid the haunts of men. 

There were flowers — no thought of Death on their leaves, 
Fair forms, and " time th' avenger " rifled not ! 

Gales that were music, no terapest.could mar. 
For the genius of peace had hallowed the spot. 

Fond hearts were there, but had not learned to grieve 
O'er all the heart most dearly learns to prize; 

Nor how neglect, the soul's worst frost can freeze : — 
They basked but in the light of loving eyes. 

They called not Hope, the ignis fatuus, there, 

But a gentle vision whom all might bless; 
Despite the meteor's shadowy air. 

They knew that mystic light was happiness. 

I know not the crime that banished me thence, 

1 know not that home, I may ever regain; 
But I know, vague dreams have haunted me since. 

Of a home, I roam o'er this earth for in vain. 

Vale. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 61 

LETTER VIII. 

STRICTURES ON SECTARIAN CREEDS. 

('• Take iu broken doses.") 
TO S. J. S. 

O- , N. Y., June, 1834. 

My Dear Brother: 

Yours, per bearer, is received ; and — "Lord, Lord, 
how this world is given to lying!" But don't trouble 
yourself, or don't flatter yourself (which is it), Master, 
or Mr., or whatever it's proper to call you; for I con- 
sider myself honestly "engaged" to you; and haven't 
the remotest idea of giving you a " free pass," or turn- 
ing you over to another governante until you are at 
least five and twenty and fairly. established in life. For 
the rest, you couldn't possibly have stumbled on a worse 
casuist to decide those vexed polemic questions, than one 
who, as yet, lacks a long way of having waded out of 
their troubled waters herself. 

But, "do I remember those everlasting Sabbath- 
days" (I suppose you are not heathenish enough to say 
Sundays), "and their hopeful twin-brother, that inter- 
minable old catechism?" Do I? Well, thank fortune, 
I have outgrown the verbiage of the latter, at last, and 
may be I don't remember the concomitants ; but it 
strikes me I could name a few. Imprimis : Long prayers 
and ample grace to very sanctimonious breakfasts ; next, 
protracted "s^(^6n^?2^"over Sunday-school lessons, relieved 
at last — thanks to the real or supposed anti-soporific 
Dill — by a flying trip to the garden ; invariably pre- 
faced with the injunction " see that you go straight 
there^ and mind you donH go anywhere else^'' and 



&2 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

accompanied by the moral certalntj, that a pair of hard, 
uiipitying eyes were watching every step of yom* pro- 
gress, lest the temptation to abduct a rose, or bear oif a 
violet surreptitiously, should prove too strong for poor, 
imre generate^ childish human nature to resist. Third, 
sitting, prim and demure as forty old tabby cats rolled 
into one, through the whole morning service, wondering 
if the preacher ever luoicld get done, and the majority 
of the adult congregation disperse, in time for you to 
swallow a bit of dry cake, or crackers and cheese, before 
the residue took you in — to Sunday School I mean — and 
Fourth : Long, dry recitations and longer prayers, spun 
out, 071 purj)^se as I used to think, to prevent wicked 
little juveniles from braving the possibility of detection 
and the certainty of its penal consequence, by stealing 
off to some interdicted establishment whose owners 
were not too " unco gude" to " break the Sabbath," by 
drawing an extra bucket of water for poor famishing 
children. Fifth: evening service and a race home, to 
bolt dinner and supper all under one, like any boa con- 
strictor, for fear of being too late for the five o'clock 
discourse. Sixth : Third service and another hurry 
home to strip off and put away your Sunday finery 
before you got too sleepy to attend to it ; and then — oh 
horror of horrors ? — the ' ' Shorter catechism ! " " Shorter 
than what''^ you wonder, and so do I ; though as you 
say, " one might possibly contrive to live through it so 
long as there was anything more to learn, and he didn't 
care one solitary fig whether it meant anything or 
nothing;" but this being compelled, for week after week 
and year after year, to repeat what is so revolting to 
the stomach of one's sense, ^'' after he is perfect to a 
demisemiquaver, letter, and comma, is more than mor- 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 63 

tal man can endure" (right — only a child has to endure 
it ;) more especially if, whenever he chance to nod, or 
be suspected of doing so, he should find himself straight- 
ened up by a rousing box on one ear, and the balance 
of power preserved by the simultaneous application of a 
counteracting tendency on the other ; bestowed with a 
hearty good-will, grace, and dexterity which nothing 
but long practice can give. 

You, who were so early removed to gentler auspices, 
escaped this phase of the infliction, though my head 
aches to this very hour with the recollection (or conse- 
quence ;) but isn't the whole Sunday system most beau- 
tifully contrived to illustrate the meaning of a " day of 
rest ; " and charmingly calculated to inspire children 
and youth with intense affection for the day and its 
Maker, and the religion in whose joint names all this 
childish martyrdom is perpetuated ? I, for one, can 
safely testify to having long suspected the latter of 
being neither more nor less than a prime invention for 
gratifying the domineering disposition of our elders, by 
furnishing them with a standing pretext for admon- 
ishing, be-lecturing, browbeating and snubbing their 
juniors on all occasions. And as for that same West- 
minster catechism, I hadn't a doubt, in those days, that 
it emanated directly from the '' bottomless pit," on 
purpose to torment us poor children. 



70 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Did you ever See the like, friend Public? — "strictures' 
pages and all among the missing ! No, never ! No, nor 
anybody else, unless it was the poor soul that had one wife 
pulling out all the gray hairs, and another waging a war of 
extermination against the black ones. Here's one publisher, 
now, wants us — that is, the '' sperrW and the '' medyum" — 
to be young and fashionable, say beside, and such like prim - 
ities — insists on divorcing us from our first love and marrying 
us to that degenerate Yankee, Noah Webster, (though we 
like honest old Sam Johnson a thousand times better,) and 
the other has heard of such obsolete antiquities as post- 
scripts and perorations. And then they both are of opinion, 
that, after all the weakness and wickedness, the pragmatics and 
absurdities with which the church has been edifying the world 
for the last eighteen centuries, you have not yet got true Chris- 
tian meekness and good sense enough extant, to tolerate a little 
*' sarcastic levity of tongue" in just such an off-hand, fear- 
less and free showing up of their effects, as chanced to emanate, 
some nineteen or twenty years since, from the "gray goose- 
quill" of a writer still young enough to wield it without glasses. 

Is your majesty of the nineteenth century such a graceless, 
good-for-naught, such a snarling c/oy-matical, that you can't 
possibly endure a little spicy — though more playful than 
spiteful — eflfervescence of youthful waywardness and mature 
asceticism? No, we don't believe a word of it — that must 
be scandalum magnatum! A pretty figure you'd cut now, 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 71 

wouldn't you, trying to get up a scene, and not a single 
anathema on hand to hurl against book, they having all 
been appropriated to author long ago, and when even sur- 
vivors and fac similes of those who, in default of the virtue 
which " believeth all things," tried so hard to superinduce 
that phase which " endureth all things," must have seen that, 
after all,* her /i'^/i^artillery was never intentionally aimed at 
anything more sacred than their own ex cathedra fulminations, 
and the "wood, hay and stubble," which, alas! too often 
repel when it would be much wiser to attract — those, at least, 
whose mental optics cannot see why it should be so very 
wrong for poor sinners to laugh at the saints' "sanctified" 
airs and faces, and so very right for them to rail at their 
quizzical ones — so much worse for the ungodly to sneer upon 
their own responsibility, than for the righteous to " curse in 
the name of the Almighty;" nor why Christians of every 
name — with their mouths all full of humble confessions, 
and "brotherly love," — shouldn't be as civil to the world 
and each other as was the old Roman heathen to his prisoner, 
whom he told that much learning had made him mad, instead 
of taunting him with ignorance, imbecility or sinister design, 
because his views and feelings, principles and practice hap- 
pened to run counter to his own. 

However, anything rather than " cause a brother to of- 
fend," or evince himself no better Christian now than we 
were then ; so, if it really be such a flagrant breach of 



72 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Christian charity for us to show up, after our own fashion, 
just how much and how little we ever did deserve to have 
the gentle epithets, ** Atheist," "Infidel," "Reprobate" and 
"unpardonable sin" forever dinned (and boxed) into our 
luckless ears ; and how little even the most honest par- 
tisan of any creed is " doing God service " by setting 
the example of calling names, because he cannot always 
drill, worry, or drive children and youth, sheep, lambs, and 
goats into the fold of the great and loving Shepherd of all, 
just whenever he likes ; why you must e'en accept from your 
"ancient gossip," the author, this same amende for the abstrac- 
tion of suppressed matter after the residue was stereotyped. 



But don't let grandmother get hold of tliis, what- 
ever you do ; for though egregiouslj misplaced, she 
would, of course, and as in duty bound, feel vastly 
shocked and deeply grieved, at my audacious and 
most deplorable impiety. " Shades of all the Pil- 
grims" — where did ''this degenerate plant of a strong 
vine come from ? " From Plymouth Eock, at your 
service, madam — according to the inscription — though I 
don't believe a word of it, and haven't a doubt it "Zz6,9" 
like any other " epitaph ! " I think I see the committee 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 73 

now, sitting in solemn conclave over "some of our best 
names," canvassing their respective claims to "tlie high 
honor" — and no thanks to them for the selection, so far 
as I am concerned! Who cares to have his ancestors 
proved a greater set of dunderheads than must needs 
have been inferred from existing specimens ? Not I ! 
It is bad enough, in all conscience, to have had St. Paul 
down upon them in advance, as a set of graceless vaga- 
bonds — worse than so many infidels — for as near as I 
can learn, our father was the first (after his bachelor 
uncle), to open his eyes to the possibility that the 
"house of Peveril," might eventually become "A-wm- 
hled''^ if not '''' humble ^"^ unless its sons condescended to 
cultivate something beside barren acres, and new scions 
of the old family stock. 

The reason why I don't believe the inscription is 
this — History and legend both avei', that there arrived, 
some years later, a self-sufiicient, presumptions, inde- 
pendent clique, who had the impertinence to object to 
the location, find fault with the government, and com- 
mit sundry other enormities by way of making them- 
selves popular ; and just so much the more as they 
were coaxed to remain in the colony, just so much the 
more they wouldn't ; all of which tallies so exactly with 
old family traditions, and the very " nature of the 
beast," that I haven't a doubt they were there — every 
mother's son of them — a hard-headed, self-willed, con- 
tumacious set, as they were, and are, and always will 
be to the end of time, I fear ! For example here are 
you, this blessed minute, reading straight along in 
spite of my prescription, just as if you didn't know 
how few eyes could bear as much as mine. " Well, if 
you will go to perdition, it can't be helped — I've done 



74 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

rriy duty!" But see that you pay more attention to the 
other injunction, and burn this, or hide it away and 
lose it anyiohere but in your coat-pocket, where grand- 
mother will be sure to overhaul it on your next visit. 1 
wouldn't really worry or distress her upon any account, 
though I have known people whom it w^ould be truly 
refreshing to see get hold of it ; always provided you 
were safe out of reach of their saintship's claws, and at 
a respectful distance from their mellifluous tones of 
voice. By the way, did you ever remark what uncom- 
monly fine, strong lungs the saints always have? I 
wonder if any of them ever die of consumption ! Pray 
inquire of the College of Physicians — the suggestion 
might be useful in physiology ! 

But wouldn't some of the "elect," look about as 
saintly on its perusal, as they and others were wont to 
do, once upon a time, when I used to tell some of the 
hopeful tyros — whose new-fledged sanctity hadn't quite 
overawed, or eflaced my impression of what incompara- 
ble ninnies we school-girls thought them a few weeks 
before — that "I really couldn't say whether I should 
like to be a Christian or not, never having seen one 
that I could remember:" — and others of the embryo 
*' ambassadors," that " it was very evident the Lord 
cared little how we felt, or what we thought con- 
cerning him, or he would take care to be more ably 
represented." 

But this was wrong — all wrong — no matter how much 
a man may deserve censure or ridicule for foisting him- 
self into a position he is unable to fill, it is ungenerous 
for even a woman to strike at one who has no intel- 
lectual armor to parry the thrust 1 It w^ould be 
dastardly in a man, and I hope that you will always 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 75 

have too much self-respect to aim a blow of the kind at 
one who is thus doubly disarmed. For even I — child 
that I was, and reckless, callous, and " impejiitenV^ as 
1 was deemed — felt many a pang at seeing the poor, 
simple, unsuspecting go-betweens, grazed by the passing 
shaft that rankled far deeper in a loftier mark. But the 
peerless bores were so intolerably annoying with their 
"gratuitous efibrts'' — made by special request — "for 
the conversion of one who lacked nothing but the grace 
of God" (and the other exception to "everything");* 
and the temptation to pay back, to those I could not 
otherwise reach, some small portion of the long arrears 
of contumely, opprobrium, and childish grievance, was 
too strong to he resisted; so the poor spoonies had to 
suffer. But I hope the obtuseness of their own percep- 
tions, did them good service on the occasion, and that 
you, who had far less of the " gall of bitterness" infused 
into your young existence, will never copy this portion 
of my example. 

Your affectionate sister, 

Louise. 

ORPHANAGE. 

Lightly 
Men speak of widowhood and orphanage. 
As words, that well might be defined by others ! 
And talk of sorrow, loneliness, and grief. 
As graphic terms ; and competent to tell 
The measure of unmeasured desolation. 



* Alluding to the expression of an old lady who used to say that if 
her daughter married to please her, " she would give her everything but 
the grace of God and a gold house," 



76 LETTEES AND MISCELLANIES. 

You, who did ever love what you have lost, 
Say are they not mere mockeries of thought ? 

For thee 
" Sad widowhood," I know thee not ; but oh, 
Thy dread compeer, only an angel fallen, 
Its fearful import may define! Fallen 
From heaven, from happiness, from hope — • 
Exiled forever, orphaned from God 
To all eternity ! Yes, he might tell ; 
Though earth has not a language to express 
A thing so redolent of wretchedness ! 

" ' Orphan' — a wanderer and a fugitive, 

An alien from his home, a stranger on 

All hearths — the common football of a world!" 

Aye that is Truth ; but not the half is told. 

" What is it then to be an orphan ?" 

Oh, is it not to live, and move, and breathe, 

In utter solitude mid countless thousands? 

To brook cold looks and careless greetings, e'en 

When most we yearn for kindlier tones ? 

To stand unrecognized amid the friends 

Of youth and childhood's haunts, then turn 

The weary foot again to wandering, 

Keckless of aim ! 

It is, to live within 
The marts of pleasure and of gain, yet be 
ISTo willing worshiper at either shrine; 
To thinh and speak, and act, not for your pleasure 
But another's — the veriest slave of time, 
And circumstance — Fortune's automaton ! 
To hear of fraud, injustice, and oppression, 
And know who is the readiest victim: 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 77 

To make an inventory of Fortune's 
Left-hand favors, and reckon them your own. 
Cold friend, and causeless foe — proud thoughts 

that rise 
To fall; bright hopes, that bud for blighting: 
Aflections, which are passions, lava-like 
Destroying what they rest upon. Feeling's 
Fond, fervid tide preparing icebergs for 
That fragile bark, the loving human heart ; 
O'ermastering pride, life and its changes 
Cannot bow; and soul-subduing poverty. 
That lays its iron, cold grasp upon the high 
Free spirit: strength, sorrow-born, that bends 
Nor breaks not in its clasp — all, all are 
The orphan's heritage. And if aught else 
Can wring, with more enduring pang, the soul 
So sternly nerved to hear that too, is his : 
Full surely may he count on his reversion 1 

And his to feel the spirit's yearning love 
For all of melody and beauty, and see 
A mist come o'er the scene, a dimness on 
The mental vision ! 'Tis, to dream of joy 
And wake to wretchedness ; to stand but for 
One little moment where the fresh'ning breeze 
Steals o'er the languid lip and brow, telling 
Of forest leaf, and ocean wave, and happy 
Homes, and cheerful toil ; and bringing gently 
To the wearied heart, its long-forgotten 
Dreams of gladness back ; then turn the fevered cheek 
Away from its reviving influence. 
And deem it is, in truth, a passing fair 
And goodly world ; but in it there is not 
7 



78 LETTEKS AND MISCELLANIES. 

A resting for the orphan ! The very breath 
Of heaven, that comes to all, comes not to him. 
Bound in " iron gyves" of unremitting toil, 
His vital air is wretchedness — what needs 
He any other? 

And music's tone, 
And beauty's glance, the green earth's smile, ancl 

heaven's 
Resplendent veil, where angel eyes are peering 
Through, what are they all to him, but sunny 
Leaves, in some bright book he may not stay 
To scan ? 

It is, to have a frater-feeling 
For the flower untimely withered — 
To claim connection with the blighted bough ; 
And feel a parting pang, as the frail leaf. 
Wind-driven, flits restless along! 'Tis, to watch 
The glorious light of intellect. 
Burn dimly, and expire ; and mark the soul 
Though born in \\Q2iYQn^ pause in its high career, 
Wane in its course, and fall to grovel in 
The dust of earth's contamination, till 
Even Death shall scorn, to give a thing 
So low, aught like a welcome greeting ! 

Oh, who would be, that pale 
Blue mist, that hangs so low in air, like hope 
That has abandoned earth, yet reacheth not 
To heaven ; that unappropriated star 
In nature's galaxy — that withering, 
Lone exotic in creation's garden 
Which men do call " an orphan?" 

L. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 79 

LETTER IX. 

OBJECTIONS TO TEXAN AD VENTURE IN 1834. 

TO S. J. S. 

O N.Y., Sep., 1834. 

My VERY DEAR BROTHER I 

Most cordially do I congratulate you upon the recov- 
ered use of your right hand — I wish I could add — and 
the uninterrupted exercise of all your faculties, mental 
as well as physical. But it seems to me that this idea 
of going to Texas savors more of madness, than good 
sense or sound judgment. What are those "eligible 
offers" which you allude to so gingerly, just as if you 
knew they wouldn't bear specification — anything more 
about sailing under a black flag ? 

But a truce to nonsense, and Stanley, do not go to 
Texas — not now, at least, if ever ! Look at its history ; 
a few restless spirits, for the most part, no doubt, 
the very scum and scourge of civilization, have fled 
to it as a land of refuge or theatre for wild and lawless 
adventure, and are now seeking to embroil the home of 
their adoption, in the horrors of civil war. They will 
doubtless succeed — that they have not done so already 
is no fault, or merit, of theirs — and then, when over- 
borne in the conflict (as they should be) never dream 
they will lack the audacity to apply for succor to the 
country they have abandoned. Not they! And what 
they ask that they will receive ; though no more entitled 
to it than a " loup the dyke daughter," to the protection 
of a father whose name she has dishonored, whose aflec- 
tion she has spurned, whose hearth she has deserted ! 



80 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

1 am no statesman to foresee results and predict their 
consequence ; but know enough of geography to recol- 
lect that Texas is nearer to Louisiana than Maine — 
though somehow you " everlasting Yankees" always 
do contrive to get nearer to everything than anybody 
else — and of human nature to expect the South to avail 
herself of the proximity, to strengthen her own arm for 
that fierce war of opinion, which the frantic fanaticism 
of the IsTorth seems bent on precipitating. Whoever 
lives to witness the successful interference of the United 
States with the family broils of Mexico and Texas, will 
see the latter become a " bone of contention" between 
the white bear of the North and the lion of the South ; 
and long may they continue to growl over it, so it kee^ 
them from gnawing on each other's vitals! 

You need not marvel if 1 chance to be somewhat in 
the rear of events ; we, in this little Yankee colony, are 
mostly blest with sectarian politics ; and if it were not 
for an occasional excursion into the surrounding State 
of New York, I could scarce pick up as much of the 
other commodity as would suffice to annoy some intole- 
rable old proser, or as is like to become matter of his- 
tory. Still I go in clearly for the let-alone system, and 
say once again do not go^ though 1 know that to you 
men, wherever danger is there is a charm! Heaven 
knows I am no coward, yet I sleep little since this inti- 
mation of your design. The government is so unsettled 
and arbitrary, personal security cannot be great. I fear 
for you, the savage brutality of the native, the murder- 
ous dirk of the Spaniard, the deeper duplicity and dead- 
lier hate of the Catholic and wanton ; and worse than 
all, the implacable hostility or more fearful friendship 
of the outlaw and renegade. Living, for the most of 



LETTERS AND IIISCELLANIES. 81 

your short life, in the quiet villages of ISTew England, 
you have, in all probability, had no opportunity for 
acquiring tact to guard against the finesse of one adver- 
sary and the vindictive fury of another, of course, you 
have it not; experience might bring it; but it would 
come too late ! It is in vain that I strive to view this 
subject in any other light; I cannot shake off the con- 
viction that in going to Texas, you seek an early, and 
violent, perhaps ignominious grave! 

If your propositions are really eligible, why not pass 
them over to Dunmore — he is older, more acquainted 
with the various modifications of human nature, and 
consequently better qualified to cope with its multiform 
developments. Moreover, as a husband and father, he 
has, as Lord Bacon says, " given bond to fate" not to 
* engage, for good or for evil, in any rash or headlong 
enterprise. There are other, I hope, hetter prospects 
open to you. Evelyn tells me she has written you 
recently " on a subject not new^'' and requests me to do 
the same. 

My brother what shall I say ? My thoughts, my ex- 
pectations, my very heartstrings are entwined indisso- 
lubly around this object. It is the one verdant spot 
where the seeds of earthly enjoyment might yet arise 
and blossom for me; if a blight fall upon this, alas for 
my hope of happiness — its tale is told, its requiem is 
spoken ! Once more then, my generous noble-minded 
brother, let me entreat you, he persitaded; let not both 
your sisters plead in vain for the inestimable privilege, 
of contributing by word and deed toward making you 
what you ought to become, an ornament to your name, 
an honor to your country ! And lohy do you hesitate ? 
simply because you " fear that / am sacrificing some 



82 LETTERS ^ND MISCELLANIES. 

cherished vision of domestic happiness, to promote your 
interests !" And this from you — you who know how 
often the assertion, that I " was born to be tolerated^ 
never to be loved," was reiterated in my youthful ears, 
till a conviction of its truth became deep and abiding ; 
and the young affections so early and hopelessly re- 
pressed, were garnered up for you as the only being on 
earth, who could ever be expected to appreciate or re- 
turn them. If the idea were not superlatively absurd, 
it would be truly vexatious. 

In the name of all that is ridiculous, do oblige me by 
delineating the form of the pining, sentimental, love- 
sick old maid, which your imagination has conjured up, 
as gliding among your household gods some ten or 
fifteen years hence, like an impersonation of all the 
"Azure Demons" from the Field of the Incurables. If 
you please though, strike out something new, 1 object to 
being mounted like a wdtch on a broomstick — that is 
entirely too common-place ! More especially for a 
savant^ who " apprehends (from certain facts which 
have come incidentally to his knowledge), that longer 
experience, and more extended intercourse with con- 
genial circles, have taught me ere this, that there may 
be something dearer to the heart of woman than a 
'brother'' s love!" ^^ Mirabile dictuP'^ And pray "how 
long have you professed apprehension," my very vener- 
able signior of seventeen ? And didn't it cost you a vast 
deal of trouble, to get up that very pretty and vastly 
wise-looking sentence ? And what will you improvise 
next, if I admit your premises, and deny the inference ? 
Among other items of precocious wisdom, perhaps you 
may know the " heart of iiooman^'' is said to be most 
susceptible between the ages of sixteen and-two-and- 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 83 

twenty ; and if, by reason of extreme old age, you have 
not forgotten how to count, you will find I have not 
only entered the vortex, but passed its utmost verge 
unscathed^ as /think, though it is probable you are the 
better judge, so a word in your ear before you decide, 
/never knew anybody " pine away and die" for love, 
unless there was opposition in the case, from whence I 
conclude, it is more love of one's own "sweet will" than 
anything else. If you know any desperate case of the 
kind, advise the patient to recover as fast as possible; 
" dying for love" is a pitiful excuse to offer one's Maker, 
for appearing in his presence uncalled. At all events, 
the heart that is preoccupied, must bear a charmed 
security, and therefore, 

" The love of" saddened " childhood's years. 
The love of youth's first vow — 
The same through sickness, grief and wrong, 
May not be banished now !" 

One is wise, " but I care not," another is rich, "yet 
I am well," a third is noble alike in person, in mind, 
and in fortune, and I would ask no better materiel 
" to make me gods — and find them clay" — ^yet still 

There comes no change upon my heart, 
Though many a one may cross my brow. 

The hopes I nursed ere life grew dark. 
Those very hopes I cherish now ! 

Fashion and ease in vain may smile, 
Or wealth his glittering hoard bestow. 

Or love strew flowers with sweeter wile. 
Their charms are bright but all too low. 

"WTiat though I frequent folly's fair. 
Where hands and hearts are often sold ; 

What if my smile be lightest there? 
When nearly viewed, 'tis something cold! 



84: LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Ambition, I have sought thy shrine, 
And at thy altar kneel I yet. 

For lofty thouglit and high design 
In recreant heart were never met. 



My woman's spirit owns thy sway. 

Nor writhes beneath the chain, 
.Nor falters on the toilsome way, 

"With truant thought, and pining vain ! 

The fealty vowed in early youth, 

And kept through all my weary lot 
Is pledged again in woman's truth; 

I am no changeling, doubt me not! 

But if you like our worthy grandmother, believe a 
vow " to love honor and obey," indispensahle to wo- 
man's happiness, recollect mine is in your keeping! 
The sooner you take measures to resume your native 
rank the better; for until that is done, I promise you 
most solemnly, I will never marry— no never ! I will 
not be the connecting link between a blacksmith and a 
gentleman — I will ally no man to poverty and disgrace! 
Aye — disgrace — for that it is, for any man to fall be- 
low the station in which he was born. I respect honest 
industry as much as any one, but God placed you in a 
different sphere, and gifted you with a high order of 
intellect, alike capable of maintaining, or regaining 
your position. Wliat if you have been rudely thrust 
from your place ? It is yours again whenever you choose 
to take it. A slip from the old oak, will you bend like 
the osier to the first adverse blast ? Are you still a 
child that must tamely succumb to all the powers that 
be — a weak woman, for whom there is no resource^ 
but meekly to bow to every passing caprice of un- 
bridled despotism ? Recollect you are a man! The 



LETTERS- AND MISCELLANIES. 85 

high gift of the head to devise, and the hand to execute, 
is yours ! 

" And wilt thou be fainthearted, and turn from the strife, 
From the mighty arena, where all that is grand. 
And devoted, and pure, and adoring in life. 

Is for high-thoughted souls, like thine, to command? 
Oh no, never dream it !" 

Inclosed you will find an Ode to Ease, by the Hon. 
K. H. "Wilde, of Ga., in which, despite the concluding 
lines, he seems to doubt whether the choice of a literary 
inactive seclusion were a wise one. You cannot if you 
would, take such a choice; then why not make a nobler? 
Most anxiously shall I await jour final decision. In the 
meantime Eveljm, who seems half inclined to make me 
the organ of her general communications, desires to be 
remembered to you, speaks enthusiastically (for her) of 
tlie improvement which the last two years have wrought 
in your intellectual character and prospects, and re- 
quests, that you will "• continue to improve in chirog- 
raphy and extend your acquaintance with Mathematics." 
/would add the name of an humbler science, but think 
you are already aware to what I refer. 

Ever Yours, 

Louise. 



86 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

LETTER X. 

NEW ENGLAND ABSTRACTIONS. 



A. N. Y., Nov., 1834. 

Ten thousand thanks, my dear, dea7' brother, for your 
last epistle, and its thrice welcome contents. The 
Rubicon, it seems, is passed, and I can well sympathize 
with your buoyancy of feeling — it is the natural result 
of sudden release from deep and long-protracted sus- 
pense, and you need not feel surprised should a reaction 
soon ensue; time, the great regulator, will eventually 
restore the natural equilibrium of your spirits, and I am 
too happy not to acquiesce most cheerfully in your de- 
termination " to leave the dust of the coal where you 
found it," and against the school have no disparaging 
word to say. The severe scientific course of the N. E. 
Seminaries is perfectly proper for gentlemen, though I, 
for one, am heretical enough to question its utility when 
applied to ladies ; being too stupid, 1 suppose, to per- 
ceive how one and the same system^ or routine of in- 
struction can fit persons for diametrically opposite sta- 
tions in life. When 7)ien become incompetent to manage 
the affairs of the out-door world, and women to regulate 
its internal police, it will be time enough for the latter to 
preside in the arcana of science, and demonstrate their 
proficiency in the lady-like accomplishments of survey- 
ing, architecture, and navigation. The only use that I 
can see of these vast acquirements, at present, is to 
bore plain, sensible people (like myself) to death with 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 87 

their pragmatical nonsense about the " equality of mas- 
culine and feminine intellect." 

Whenever I hear a mother espousing the affirmative 
of this proposition, I think^ she is pleading guilty to a 
most inexcusable neglect of her offspring ; for did she 
take the trouble to remarh what comes under her obser- 
vation, she would very soon see the difference between 
investigation and discrimination. She might speechify 
to the end of time, I should not be convinced ! "What 
has he done^^ was Napoleon's test of greatness; and 
what is a cause good for, I ask, which from creation's 
dawn till now, has never produced a single effect % 
Why just precisely nothing at all! 

The truth is, about one half the women in our world 
may fairly take precedence of the same number of men, 
and for the residue, the less said about their intellects, 
the better; while, on the other hand, we find a few at 
least among the men, so immeasurably superior, they 
distance all comparison — " none but themselves can be 
their parallel." And none hut some wise fool would 
ever have thought of instituting one in the face of 
" Moses and the Prophets" and " twelve Apostles too;" 
yet succeeding simpletons continue to send their small 
wits woolgathering on the subject, for the jpleasure^ I 
suppose, of being shunned as disagreeable, laughed at 
as ridiculous, and compared to the ambitious frog in the 
fable. And their gallant champions of the other sex 
fare little or no better at our hands — to be suspected of 
elucidating the question more by illustration than argu- 
ment, is generally the meed of their chivalry. 

This onslaught on Neio England "Abstractions" 
may be rather ill-timed, but is not altogether so unpro- 
voked as you might suppose; for ever since the fame of 



88 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

my astonishing genius reached some of their highei 
Seminaries, I have been bored to death by circulars, 
prospectuses, and appeals: that is to say I should have 
been, if I hadn't had the uncommon presence of mind 
to think of enlightening my visual organs by the blaze 
of their wit, instead of wasting it on the dark places of 
my understanding. I do assure you the coruscations 
are often most brilliant ; but why don't the originators 
pay t/ieir own postage^ and then strike out boldly for 
the ne plus ultra of absurdity, style their embryo 
Academies, Colleges^ and confer all manner of degrees? 
Some Mosiana must have been striking Plymouth Rock 
of late, otherwise I can't conceive how these Puritan 
savan-ese should have imbibed such copious draughts 
of learning, piety, and universal benevolence, that they 
can look with pity and disdain upon the sordid, puerile 
interests of personal and domestic life; and devote 
themselves (and others too) so heroically and unre- 
servedly to the elevation and enlightenment of mankind 
in general, and the western hemisphere in particular. 
"Woe is me," that I haven't even the expansive intel- 
lect to grasp the colossal idea of such a magnificent scale 
of operations, much less the transcendent wisdom and 
boundless benevolence to co-operate in a mission of 
such high emprise ! But I can stand far off and ad- 
mire, and suppose eloquence must have its crown ; so 
here goes: D. D., Distinguished Dunce, A. M.,' All 
Moonshine, C. S., Consummate Simpleton, E. G., Egre- 
gious Goose, either, or all of which are entirely at their 
service and singularly appropriate and becoming to all 
persons ambitious of writing their names in the middle 
of the alphabet. 

The ovation may, to be sure, fall somewhat short of 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 89 

their own ^'' juste ^retensions^'^ — claims, I should have 
said, for everybody knows how very unjpretending they 
are, and that there never is, never was, and never will 
be, one of the race the least bit conceited ; but havino^ 
no single imperfection of their own to bless themselves 
withal, they can of course afford to overlook any little 
shortcomings of mine with all the condescending affa- 
bility imaginable. And they " liadnH ougM^^ to ex^ 
pect much, they " Itnow they hadrCt^'' from a barbarian 
of the extreme west, living, at this very present, away 
out in the middle of New York ; and who's already 
" done heen caught,"f once in her life among the Hot- 
tentots of "" Old Yirginy ;" where they don't even know 
that the essential oil of all sanctity, grace, and decorum 
is to be found only in the soul of a ramrod, nor how 
" comviiorO'' it is, not to keep a house shut up all the 
while, looking as stiff and stately, and dim and dismal, 
as old Giant Grim in the Cave of Despair; or what a 
scandalous yii^z^ a? ^<25 it would be for a lady to step for- 
ward and look out, like an honest woman, if she felt 
like it, instead of standing away back out of sight and 
peeping through the blinds like an Eastern slave, or 
regular intriguante through the bars of a Spanish jalou- 
sie, or Turkish harem. " Oh Giel! That anything hut 
an actress or a milliner should ever stale her sacred 
purityship by being seen near an open door or window, 
miser icorde I^'' Ho! some salts here quick before they 
faint, and as for me, I may as wx41 tramp off at once 
and camp out with other pagans down toward the 
equator ; for it will never do to show my face in these 



* New England, and fSouthern provincialisms, not restricted by an;y 
means to the " profane vulgar." 



90 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

latitudes again, after having lost caste past all redemp- 
tion by mere mention of such vulgarizing, undignified 
exposure ! 

Well it can't be helped, but it's their mission to 
civilize, christianize, catechize^ and patronize all the 
rest of creation, and how those " morning stars" ever 
got through that song without their prompting, or how 
the world ever did get along without them, I'm sure I 
don't pretend to say ; though I rather suspect that when 
" the foundations were laid" they must have been there! 
Otherwise it wouldn't have been their obvious duty and 
manifest destiny, to charge themselves with all public 
and private weal, "from the rising of the sun unto the 
going down of the same." Nor would it have been so 
incumbent on them, to remind us, in all our " out-go- 
ings and incomings, our down-sittings and uprisings," 
that tliey "are the people," and very "high up in the 
pictures," while we have only just entered the first 
Horn-book of civilization ! It's even so, wisdom will 
undoubtedly die with them, we understand all that part 
of the lesson perfectly ; but not how people whose very 
life-breath is devotion, whose every pulsation is only "tx 
duty^'' performed, could reconcile it to their consciences 
to neglect us after this fashion ! Here we are, grown up 
like so many weeds in a garden, instead of being trained 
up in the way we should go, and now things have 
come to a pretty pass; and how all those Professorships 
are to be filled is more than I can tell. For we of the 
ourang-outang species are not aspiring — that is to say 
not so very — and doubt whether a single Lusus could 
be found in the whole tribe suflSciently tete eleve to en- 
shroud himself in super-celestial abstractions, live upon 
moonshine steeped in mirage, and leave all grosser 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 91 

materialities, like dollars and cents, for the erection of 
new shrines, whence "incense and a pure" (golden) 
" offering" should never cease to arise to the honor and 
glory of the jprimum mohiles. Indeed, we sorely fear 
they will have to come down from the acme of their 
cloud-capped empyrean, and burn their own fingers for 
the sake of the chestnuts, or find the whole fruits of their 
projected suzerainty turn into " apples of Sodom" and 
"grapes of Gomorrah" in their very hands: 

"Oh, wad some pow'r the giftie gie us. 

To see oursel's as ithers see us. 
It wad frae monie a blunder free us. 

And foolish notion ; 
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, 

And e'en devotion !" 

But "7?2<25J?/"* now, you, being only a collateral of the 
masculine gender, haven't been initiated into the merits 
of this grand missionary, self-propagating, normal- 
school system. Ah, it grieves me excessively to think 
how ineligible you are to that " seraph's wreath and 
martyr's crown!" But don't lay it too much to heart, 
you may arrive, some day, at the enviable felicity of 
being taxed indirectly for the good cause, through the 
medium of your better-half; for, as near as I could 
translate out of blue flame into "king's English," it 
was to be established, in the first place, by a regular re- 
script upon all ladies connected, by even the tenth 
degree of propinquity, with Alma Mater, (and not living 
convenient to any other sewer or gully into which they 
could as well throw five or ten dollars per annum) and 

* {May he) — another Down-Eastism, tliough heard less frequently 
than ''hadnH ought," in New England, and "Done been," "done seen," 
"done done," etc., in Southern uppertendom. 



92 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

sustained ever after, bj that, and the voluntary labor of 
devotees, eleemosynary pupils, and outside barbarians, 
ambitious of the high honor of serving under such illus- 
trious auspices, and living upon " a cpiart of water" 
per diem " boiled down to a pint to make it strong." 
Should this resource fail, I suppose, we may look for a 
regular " interdict," or edict extraordinary, enjoining it 
upon all persons having the fear of excommunication, 
social and sacerdotal, before their eyes, to come right 
round by the base of Pilgrim Rock and take out a 
license or passport, under penalty of being "black- 
balled" by all "good society" in this world, and knocked 
over the head with St. Calvin's keys if ever they pre- 
sume to seek admission among the elite of the next. 
And what puts the matter past all kind of doubt is, 
that they have already got the wdiole standing army 
of William the Testy drawn up in battle array ; so 
there will be no compelling them to forego ad valorem 
duties. 

Should th-is seem more " savage" than " barbarous," 
recollect New England has sons and daughters of her 
own, abundantly able and willing to chant her praises, 
and their own too, as all these self-styled illuminati, 
and old women of all genders can abundantly testify. 
Moreover, she claims the Sedgwick, Sigourney, Bunker 
Hill, and Daniel Webster; and that is honor enough; 
so she can very well afford to dispense with my com- 
mendation. And if she couldn't, / owe her nothing; 
it was no fault of mine that some of our forefathers 
settled on her soil. Had they located elsewhere, they 
might have done as the Livingstons and Van Ren- 
sellaers did, instead of squatting themselves down in the 
selfish enjoyment of ancestral dignity and pecuniary 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 93 

independence, and making no provision for the increas- 
ing claims on a diminishing patrimony. 

Eureka! I have found it, I do believe; the very root 
of bitterness whence springs the indomitable Yankee 
aversion to negro slavery. "The head and front of its 
offending hath this extent — no more," it continues to 
this very day to sustain the children of the Southern 
planters in the rank of their fathers, whereas the 
descendants of the New England gentry are '' every- 
thing by turns and nothing long." When they get to 
the bottom of the wheel they must, of course, look up, 
and no thanks to them; they can look nowhere else! 
What was an acre, two hundred years ago, is no more 
than an acre now — perhaps not so much; some lawless 
freebooter of a river may have helped himself to a 
mouthful of terra firma and " no remede." 

This reminds ine of your " how do you expect to dis- 
pose of yourself ad interimV^ Ans. I left New Yan- 
keedom immediately upon receipt of yours, and entered 
school for the ensuing year, in order to study French 
and review some other things which I never looked at 
before ; an arrant piece of humbuggery, isn- 1 it ; but it 
hurts no one, not even myself, for it is no trouble to 
keep up with these reviewers ; the next one will proba- 
bly find me somewhere south of Mason and Dixon's 
line. Evelyn has gone to Tennessee, and perhaps I 
may follow suit. If people here, who know I left school 
at fourteen, will persist in the infatuation of considering 
me well-educated, I may, in process of time, pass for 
quite a knowing wight, among strangers, and, if none of 
those learned seminarians happen to cross my path, 
hope to profit by the delusion. "My health" (truth to 
tell, it 18 none of the best) will, as usual, furnish the 



94: LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

ostensible motive for going South; a more cogent one is, 
that all the more eligible situations here, seem to belong, 
almost as matter of course, to those who are educated 
up, not those who are brought down to them ; and be- 
side, I rather suspect my natural affinities tend in that 
direction; at any rate, I don't choose to be "only a 
teacher" among my old acquaintance — I could better 
brook the estimate from a stranger. And when I re- 
collect how much more freely this disrespect for the sole 
profession open to females — one too, which should per- 
taim to ladies and gentlemen only — is avoioed at the 
south, I lose all compunction ; consider myself greatly 
superior to what they are at all entitled to expect, and 
them, as incorrigibly stupid and ungrateful, if they fail 
to perceive and appreciate their own uncommon good for- 
tune, and my remarkable condescension. But, no doubt, 
many a vulgar old vixen has so identified herself with 
the idea of a teacher, that people there see no propriety 
in applying the title, and that of lady, to the same indi- 
vidual. However, I made out to pass in Virginia, and 
feel no uneasiness on that score. If my acquaintance 
is not sought, it will never occur to me, for the first 
time, that /am the principal loser ; so you see what a 
comfortable thing it is to have a good opinion of one's- 
self. 

Evelyn appears to have conceived strong predilections 
in favor of Mississippi. " There ^''^ she says, " talent 
is appreciated and speedily rewarded, without waiting 
to ascertain if the possessor have no sins of self-esteem 
to be punished for, by the guileless race of upstarts." 
She thinks you would do well to settle somewhere in 
that section at an early date, as you " would best be 
qualified to practice your profession where it was ac- 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 95 

quired.'' All in good time, mj fair sister ; but jour 
collegiate course comes first, and that should be taken 
here in jSTew York (which, I take to be, a sort of transi- 
tion from granite to alluvion), that you may rub off some- 
what of the rust of the Yankee as well as "dust of the 
coal," before entering a community so widely dissimilar 
in all its habits of life and modes of thought ; and I am 
truly glad you " have had," and will have, " no leisure 
to burn your fingers with that most inflammable of all 
subjects, slavery!" IS'ever lay "the flattering unction 
to your soul," that wTiere yoic are^ you ever can hear, 
unless by accident, anything but ex parte or grossly- 
caricatured facts, or rather statements wantonly dis- 
torted, if not wholly fabricated (as, no doubt, they often 
are) on purpose to exasperate the slaveholder to deeds 
of violence that may w^arrant a terrible retribution. 
Every step now taken in the premises, must inevitably 
be a retrograde movement ; the hand that raised, must 
allay the storm, or none but Omnipotence can walk its 
troubled waters with security. The South will 7iot 
brook this ofiicious intermeddling with her domestic 
policy ; and few, if any, candid persons, reside there 
long without being convinced that she ought not. Sus- 
pend your opinion therefore, until you can base it, in 
reason and equity, on the general operation of the 
system. Kecollect, to exasperate is not to convince, 
much less convert ; mind your own business^ and rest 
assured, that if others need, they will be very apt to call 
for your assistance. It's exceedingly generous of us, to 
shoulder their responsibilities, no doubt; but the old 
maxim is, " Be just before you are generous ^^ and I 
question if we might not all be quite as profitably (if 
not altogether so pleasantly), engaged in mending our 



96 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

own ways, as in repenting of other people's transgres- 
sions. But, I suppose, the price of luviher must be down 
again, as the old cynic said, that was the reason why 
nobody thought it w^orth while to " pull the beam out 
of his own eye," in his day. 

I wish you could have been in Chapel, this evening, 
and heard Sterne's fine description of Solitary Imprison- 
ment, which he mistook for slavery, inserted in an abo- 
lition composition, declamation, or — I can't exactly say 
what the thing was intended for; but really the author 

w^ould have swallowed Mrs. A 's vocabulary at a 

mouthful; lexicons are nothing to him; the whole dic- 
tionary is used up — Dr. Johnson is undone ! The un- 
conscionable cormorant! But honest " Old Bluff*" isn't 
to be eno^oro-ed while /am extant, and no mark set on 
the homicide; so wake up and look at the little cannibaPs 
portrait. lie is about thirty (f), goes by the name of 
the Seven P's: to wit — Painter, Poet, Pedant, Prin- 
ter, Parson, Philanthropist, Pedagogue ; is addicted to 
philosophy, dabbles in phrenology, and the materia 
medica, and last, not least, "the sweet youth is in love." 
Yet, somehow, he doesn't seem to prosper here — it can't 
be for want of being sufficiently explicit, though; for he 
has a new " flame" every week, and, among other enor- 
mities, has recently perpetrated an acrostic on our 
French teacher. The class advise her to have it set to 
music and sung in full conclave, one line to the tune of 
Old Hundred, the next to Yankee Doodle; but as he has 
the grace or lacks the audacity to use my name to do 
the ridiculous, I am inclined to be "merciful, and spare." 

You are fortunate in having no Female department 
in your institution : if you are half as sensitive about 
" submitting your thoughts to public inspection" as you 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 97 

pretend; but never feel discouraged if you are ''igno- 
rant of all rules of composition." You surely have 
good ideas, and these will naturally suggest appropriate 
expressions ; and you can tell when they are properly 
arranged by reading them over once or twice audibly. 
If you find the process fatiguing, try again — your piece 
wants remodeling — a good style will be easy to read. 
When you have " nothing to say," say nothing ; and if 
you are " incompetent to say anything interesting," 
leave your hearers to make the discovery ; it is a great 
piece of supererogation, not to say gratuitous imperti- 
nence, to tell them so, and then inflict an eflTusion long 
as a congressman's speech, or one of my letters. It is 
high time this transparent amalgam of vanity and 
hypocrisy should be exploded from the literary world, 
a boarding-school Miss might perhaps be excused for 
retaining it; but what business have men with such 
pitiful afl^ectation ? 

Speaking of style, I wish somebody had mine ; I am 
perfectly aware it is not exactly the thing for a lady ; 
but as I think, rapidly, vehemently, independently, so 
must I write. You know that for me there are, dark 
lines on childhood's sunny leaf, which I retrace only in 
concert with you. The lesson they unconsciously taught, 
was one of daring, if not unhesitating independence, 
of thought and of action ; and the time is not yet come 
to lay aside this forced and unnatural character. Per- 
haps it never may while I have being; but in one of 
my air-castles there is a quiet nook, where the artificial 
amazon may settle down into the gentle, unassuming, 
dependent creature that God made woman; without a 
fear that her affection is obtrusive, or her presence un- 
welcome, and be happier, far happier there in that 



98 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

cherished helplessness than if wielding the destinies of 
all her race. 

Good night, my dear brother, may the night of mis- 
fortune never overtake you. 

Your own, 

Louise. 



MY COMMON-PLACE-BOOK. 

Friday Evening, New York, Dec, 1834, 

Lessons, exercises and reviews en masse to be at- 
tended to, besides sundiy important though minor mat- 
ters to be looked after ; and last, not least, a composition 
to be fabricated for the ensuing week. 

Now if this were simply an affair of imagination, there 
wouldn't be anything so very repulsive about the thing ; 
reducing it to a tangible form is what I dislike. Only 
think, now, of robbing an innocent old goose of her 
plumage, and then sitting down deliherately to convict 
yourself of the larceny, in lines which betray indubitable 
marks of their extraction. Isn't it absurd ? To be sure 
it is, and not over legal either, for no one is obliged to 
criminate himself; and my opinion is, that every one 
who expects another to write by the square and compass, 
the clock and the almanac, ought to furnish him a gold 
pen instanter. However, it's no use talking, for "the 
powers that be" always did have a fashion of snubbing 
the powers that would be, so I may as well succumb and 
"follow the multitude to do evil." 

Having come to this magnanimous conclusion, I set 
about arranging preliminaries with all possible dispatch. 
Unfortunately this operation consumed more time than 
might have been necessary, if my appendages, with a 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 99 

perversity as I think peculiar to themselves, were not 
uniformly where I am not ; consequently the negative 
courage which had incited to action, began to ooze out 
at the end of my finger nails before the process was half 
complete, and by the time it was finished had evaporated 
entirely. Such a catastrophe may not be altogether 
unique in school history, but the dilemma was none the 
less vexatious for that, and a way to get out of it was a 
desideratum. So I plunged into a grand cogitation, and 
was just about to seize the very original idea of trying 
how far Friday's unlucky stars might be made responsi- 
ble for the failure, when a voice at my side exclaimed, 
''Why don't you write ?" " Write, write," said I dream- 
ily, "writing is a purely mechanical operation, and not 
at all to my taste." " What of that, I thought you were 
going to prepare a composition this evening ?" " Well, so 
I was ;" but — " So you was^ then why are you not now," 
rejoined the createur des questions impertinente^ in- 
solently re-echoing my words. 

It's exceedingly disagreeable to be wheeled to the 
right about, and made to look a subject point blank in 
the face when trying to escape it with all your might ; 
yet being rather amiable (when there's nothing to vex 
me,) I kept very cool and civil, instead of flying right 
off in a passion as an ill-tempered person might, and 
merely attempted a diversion by mooting the vexed ques- 
tion of "subject;" but madam, the inquisitor, wasn't to 
be cajoled by such a ruse. "Why, there are the lan- 
guages and customs, the arts and sciences, the virtues 
and graces" — it was high time to put a stop to her list 
and officiousness; so ^Hlieij are not of my acquain- 
tance^^ retorted I, with a little, very little asperity ; and 
just as if I didn't know that was the best possible quali- 

L.ofC. 



100 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

fication for writing about them; but all wouldn't do. 
" Then take suavity of manner ! " I looked up, expect- 
ing to find a sneer that would send me for refuge to a 
sublime fit of the sullens for the rest of the evening: 
yet, no, there she sat, " calm as immortal Justice," and 
perfectly unconscious, to all appearance, of having made 
a sarcastic remark ; ready, too, to add, " If nothing else 
will do, write an obituary on the common-place-book 
you hold in your hand. 

This was the point too much, beyond which human 
endurance will not go ; so, overlooking the obvious ob- 
jection that it was still extant, I began whirling the 
leaves very rapidly, in search of something on which to 
base a cavil at the new name conferred on an old book 
of miscellanies. Again was my own evil star in the 
ascendant: the more I looked, the more unexception- 
able did the title appear. The ground-work exhibited 
grotesque and multifarious combinations of certain ill- 
favored characters commonly reputed to be Arabic nu- 
merals, (and very appropriate signs no doubt they were 
for dealers in the black art,) filled in with all sorts of 
angular, wicked, mysterious-looking little lines, use 
known only to the initiated ! 

Superadded to these were plans for amalgamating 
various theological and political creeds, comprising some 
obscure hints that it might be necessary to expatriate or 
destroy incorrigible dissentients. Next came a sugges- 
tion to canonize the author of that fine old text. Mind 
your own business ; and had he only devised a way to 
enforce the injunction, uniformly and impartially, I, foi 
one, should accede to that proposition immediately. 
Over and above all, were receipts for making dinners 
with the proper materiel^ and geniuses with any, or 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 101 

none at all, as the case might happen to be. The roses 
of the garden vied with the flowers of rhetoric in its 
pages ; and could they only be concealed a few centu- 
ries, in some out-of-the-way cranny or nook, antiqua- 
rians of future ages would, no doubt, assign them a 
choice niche among theii- archives, and pore over their 
contents with visages as elongated as ever graced the 
resurrection of an Egyptian mummy or Pompeiian 
pickle. Magnify ing-glasses would rise fifty per cent, 
in the market; for what vu-tuoso but would wish to 
examine such an invaluable relic of olden time, and 
where would be savant so decidedly vulgar as to possess 
good optics of his own ? 

My friends, if you have pity for the afflicted, prepare 
to bestow it upon me ! Here is that relentless Mentor 
again, peering over my shoulder, (the impudent minx,) 
and ready to assail me with all manner of impertinence. 
Here it comes ! '' Why, what, in the name of common- 
sense, are you about T' ''Obeying your orders. Mis- 
tress Conscience, a la lettre^ '' Not mine, indeed ! 
Did I ever instigate such romance ? Why, there is n't 
a particle of truth in one half you have written ! " 
'' What of that ! who thinks of truth when writing an 
obituary?" L. 

MY LAST LESSON IN MATHEMATICS. 
Res]pectfully inscribed to the Savans^ my henef actors^ 
in gratitude for their recent endowment of " gkeat 

MATHEMATICAL POWERS." 

ESCULAPIAN ADVICE. 
Away to the South, the sunny South, 
And shun not the wave, and fear not the drouth ; 
Though death to another, 'tis life-breath to thee : 

Then away to the South, flee quickly, O flee! 
9 



102 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

The winds of the North too fiercely are driven 
Along the young heart by weariness riven ; 
For thine, its dreams are high, its thoughts still proud, 
It is not meet for the burial shroud ! 

There is life in the gale I bid thee seek ; 

'Twill be light to thine eye and health to thy cheek; 

Then freely go forth, and strew on its air 

The roses of death that are clust'ring there 

^ -TV* tP Tt VP 

I know that the breeze of the South is light, 
Its clime ever fair, and its wave as bright 
As if the million eyes that in it sleep 
Should flash their living light along the deep. 

But they say that Death even there hath power 

To crop the fruit, to nip the bud, and blight the flower; 

Then how shall I elude that tyrant's art. 

Whose unfailing home is the human heart ? 

****** 

O Death hath many a haunt of fear, but none 
So sad as the cold, and lone and cheerless one, 
Where Hope her incense lamp hath ceased to burn, 
And Life hangs weeping o'er the darkened urn ! 

THE OAK SAPLING, 

AN APOLOGUE. ' 

As Common-Sense was making one of her occasional 
circuits through creation, she encountered a trio on the 
planet called Earth, too deeply absorbed in the discussion 
of a favorite topic to notice her approach, or, perhaps, too 
well satisfied with their own good company to wish any 
addition to the party. Reduced to the disagreeable 
necessity of enacting listener — a serious inconvenience, 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 103 

it must be recollected to one of her sex — our traveler 
was not long in discovering the subject which engrossed 
the attention of her uncivil acquaintance to be, the 
feasibility of transmuting vegetables from one species 
to another. A thrifty oak sapling had the honor, it 
seems, of eliciting, on this occasion, the opinion of the 
three worthies upon a subject intimately connected with 
their past experience: whether it was its happiness as 
well as honor, I shall not pretend to decide. 

"It is a maxim of profound wisdom," exclaimed the 
senior member, " that habit is a second nature." 
"Amen!" cried his myrmidons; " from which it may 
be inferred that there is no nature at all; and — the 
difference between them being merely the result of acci- 
dent — that an oak may bear grapes as well as a vine, 
when it has only acquired the habit of doing so ! " 
"But how is such a habit to be superinduced?" inter- 
poses the unwelcome intruder, forgetting, in the novelty 
of this singular assertion, the slight put upon her person : 
" how can it be done ? " 

This provokingly impertinent query could not well be 
parried; so it was met much with the air of a fashion- 
able about to accost an acquaintance not particularly 
agreeable, but, on the whole, too respectable or influen- 
tial to be a proper subject for the cut direct. And, in 
order to give all due weight to the reply, it was deliv- 
ered with very imposing solemnity and great delibera- 
tion of manner, to the following effect : " That it may be 
done^ there is no manner of doubt ; for do we not read, 
'Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined;'" "that 
is to say, that if bent awTy, it will grow crooked." 
Not deigning to notice this interruption, save by an 
accession of dignity intended to repress all such insolent 



104 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

ebullitions in future, the speaker proceeded : " From 
which it is evident that an oak trained in the form of 
a vine will assume its properties." " By no means : it 
is idle to suppose inherent properties can be transferred 
by mere change of form." " So it is written! " " Not 
by an unerring pen, however; neither would it sustain 
your theory if it were." 

Kesorting to good, sound logic is a condescension 
which no infallible person should ever be expected to 
make : the last cavil was, therefore, treated with proper 
contempt, the reply alluding solely to the first insinua- 
tion. ' " Well, then, if nothing but sacred authority will 
silence your foolish objections, has not the son of Sirach 
said, " Train ujp a child in the way he should go^ and 
when he is old he loill not dejpartfrom it? " And why 
should not the rule apply to vegetable as well as animal 
nature? And, beside, are not we persons of approved 
judgment, profound sagacity, and incontestible expe- 
rience?" "Of considerable experience, I admit," re- 
joins the interlocutor, glancing significantly toward some 
sickly -looking shrubs, evidently making a precarious 
struggle for existence ; " but I have yet to learn that it 
has been successful." 

The unparalleled audacity of a remark and appeal so 
like the avguinentum ad hominem had well nigh over- 
set the theory and equanimity of our horticulturists; 
however, they rally with tolerable grace, put the best 
face possible upon the matter, and resume with more 
nonchalance and urbanity than could have been ex- 
pected after so severe a rebuff*; "To be sure, our efforts 
have not been as successful as we could w4sh hitherto, 
owing to some untoward events, and perhaps to some 
little inadvertence on our part; but nov:^ with our 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 105 

accumulated experience, concentrated energy and inde- 
fatigable zeal, every obstacle must be obviated." 

"Admitting, then, that success is certain, (which by 
the way I very much doubt,) what gain will there be 
sufficient to counterbalance the toil of attainment ? Why 
is an oak less valuable than a vine ? Is not ' the mon- 
arch of the hills,' the personification of majesty as well 
as beauty, and as useful as magnificent ? Is it not found 
in 'palace hall and peasant cot,' on desert plain and 
ocean brine, the mighty instrument that enables man to 
set his conquering foot on the subject wave and outride 
the fury of the ocean storm?" 

"It is the emblem of pride and arrogance," retort the 
trio, indignant at the idea of a panegyric on the oak, 
"and for this alone the whole species ought to be exter- 
minated ! It usurps a place that might support a tree 
bearing fruit nutritious to man, is frequently a partisan 
in public brawls and private feuds, and further, we ap- 
prove not those vagrant habits which thou dost covertly 
advocate, and it is so well calculated to sustain. There- 
fore we are of opinion that 'He, who doeth all things 
well,' would have done a little better had he created 
more vines and fewer oaks in our domains; and we are 
resolved to tolerate, from henceforth, nothing so excep- 
tionable in our premises." 

"You must exclude the vine then, if trees are to be 
condemned for the use made of their productions ; it 
may, with the utmost propriety, be termed the parent of 
dissipation, and as such is celebrated in the annals of 
strife." 

"They were profane libelers who made it so. Has it 
not the immortal honor to be the symbol of the Church 
and its great Lord and Master I It cannot but be well- 



106 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

pleasing in his sight, when we, his creatures, improve 
npon his work, by eradicating the properties of the oak 
and substituting those of his chosen emblem ! My 
friends, let us set about this glorious work immediately. 
It must infallibly be crowned with success." 

"I fear me not — Nature and Fortune are but wayward 
divinities, and often thwart the best concerted schemes. 
However, if you will not be persuaded, 'go on and pros- 
per.' I will call when I return, and should you succeed, 
may avail myself of your skill in behalf of some eaglets, 
that you will doubtless think proper to convert into 
geese." 

"By all means, and w^e shall be most happy to oblige 
you, though we cannot exactly coincide with you in 
opinion." 

The debate thus amicably adjusted, both parties be- 
ing, as usual, the more confirmed in their own opinion, 
the process was commenced immediately after Common 
Sense, (who was never a party to such an experiment,) 
had taken her leave. With one accord, the victors in 
the "wordy war" repair to an adjacent forest, select a 
thrifty -looking shrub and transfer it without further loss 
of time to their parterre — partly for the convenience of 
having it near at hand, but more to remove it from the 
contagion of vicious oaken example. Not an acorn was 
tolerated in its presence lest it should recall unfavorable 
associations ; vines of unexceptionable deportment sur- 
rounded it on every side, and a hundred ligaments on 
the trunk and branches, said most unequivocally, "this 
is the way, walk ye in it!" Attentions, suited to the 
importance of the subject and the dignity of the occa- 
sion, were duly administered "from night to morn, from 
morn to dewy eve," and nothing but the indomitable 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 107 

pertinacity of an oak, prevented it from being a vine of 
most exemplary demeanor. But alas for obstinacy, it 
neutralizes every effort for improvement, and so it did 
in this instance. 

When Common Sense first saw the Pkotege, it had 
but just emerged from etiolation; still she fancied its 
native vigor not sufficiently exhausted to prevent the in- 
cipient spirit of rebellion from soon developing itself; 
though not caring to mar the enjoyment of others, 
merely to show her own superior discernment, she mag- 
nanimously forbore to express such an opinion. The 
experimentalists, meanwhile, continued as sanguine as 
ever, and urged her to bring forward the eaglets, but 
she "preferred waiting the result of the present experi- 
ment, or until such time at least as the birds should 
have become sufficiently hardy to endure the process 
without endangering their lives." 

But let no one imagine our trio suffered aught, of 
minor consequence, to abstract their attention from what 
they deemed of paramount importance. 

They were indefatigable in their exertions, every su- 
perfluous excrescence was carefully removed ; but no 
sooner was a refractory shoot lopped oft* on one side, 
than a dozen others sprang in its place, or some other 
equally exceptionable, till, at length, a more distorted- 
looking shrub never set every principle of order at defi- 
ance, or cast its uncouth shade on the fair face of nature. 
Indeed, the returning wanderer seemed half inclined to 
class it, with — "Forms might be worshiped on the 
bended knee, and yet the second dread command be 
free!" There were leaves in plenty, and boughs in 
abundance, and angles in every variety the most devo- 
ted lover of geometry could desire ; but for the graceful 



108 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

curve of the vine, it was nowhere to be found, and for 
grapes, there were none of them. But that was no man- 
ner of consequence, for had they been hung on the horns 
of the moon, they would have been equally accessible. 
It resembled nothing in nature very nearly ; but if a com- 
parison must be had, an Ishmaelite and a Bramble will 
contest the honor of election. 

When Common Sense next re-visited the scene, she 
was received quite as cordially as most people greet one 
whose advice they have spurned, when he comes to see 
his prediction verified. There was a change in the Pko- 
tege; its native vigor had been exhausted in futile ef- 
forts to escape its unnatural confinement, the hues of 
autumn were rife mid the green glories of summer, and 
it was evident it could not long survive a monument of 
defeat ! It was no time to taunt them with their discomfi- 
ture, it was too apparent ! " Strange," said they ; " mid 
after all the jpains we have taken — passing strange!" 

''''Not at all,^^ ssiys Common Sense — ''the captive 
eagle will pine in bondage, the mountain oak will 
wither and die in an ungenial soil, while the culturist 
is vainly looking for fruit to recompense his toil. 

"Themonarchs of crag and clifi' may bask in the 
sun, or revel in the storm, for me, I set not an intruder's 
foot in their dominions !" Glandula. 

A N. Y., 1835. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 109 

LETTER XI. 

EVERYTHING IN GENERAL AND NOTHING IN PARTICULAR. 

TO S.J. S. 

L , Tenn., April, 1836. 

My Dearest Brother; 

If you find my letters resemble "angel visits" at all, 
you ought to be very thankful, instead of complaining that 
"for the last twelvemonth they are becoming hrief^'' as 
well as "few and far between." 

I am sorry the circumstance has given you pain, and 
do assure 3"0u it did not originate in any waning interest 
in your welfare ; but w^as merely the natural and almost 
inevitable result of extraneous circumstances and our 
relative change of position. "Othello's occupation 's 
gone," you no longer need lecturing, or if you do, I shall 
hand you over to your tutor, who will, no doubt, perform 
the operation much more secundum, artem. 

You know it is always my ^pleasure to contribute to 
yours, so if by virtue of seniority I happen to possess 
any information which you prefer to receive through my 
hands^ it is entirely at your service ; but Stanley, / am 
not your superior, and wish to be considered as such 
no longer ! It is disagreeable to be overrated ; when any- 
thing is elevated above the true medium, it has to fall 
as much below, before it recovers the equilibrium, and 
for this facilis descensus Averni^ or as Falstafi" has it, 
"Alacrity in sinking," I have no very special predilec- 
tion. We all know what to expect from a hot-house 
grow^th, and it is not the possession of any extra facul- 



110 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

ties, or the excess of ordinary ones, that makes me "so 
much older in intellect than years;" but the simple fact, 
that adverse fortunes forced such as I have into prema- 
ture action. It is only the worm can be trampled with 
impunity — oppression is sure to strengthen what she 
cannot fatally depress. But "111 betide the school 
wherein I learned to ride," so no more of your "(9?i 
dlts^'''' they may flatter but do not please. Much as 
Hercules would have liked a compliment on his spinning, 
or Charles the Twelfth the reputation of taste in artifi- 
cial flower-making, do I relish these suspicious commen- 
dations. Yours ^ of course, are not ironical and intended 
to quiz; but where "the hand of afiection guides the 
pen," the partiality of friendship is liable to bias the 
judgment. And besides, "what has a woman's fearful 
heart to do with aught like fame," unless it be to bask 
in the soft ra-diance of its light as reflected from the 
brow of another? So speak me no more speeches, re- 
port me no more reports, I entreat you. 

And still less would I have you suspect "the change 
in 3"our feelings respecting the relative value of 'things 
temporal and things spiritual,'" to have wrought any in 
mine toward you. Not so, my brother! It is matter of 
no ordinary gratulation, that you are now free to devote 
your time, your thoughts and energies to pursuits which 
your situation so imperiously imposes, unaiinoyed by 
the harassing and forever recurring conviction, that the 
mightier interests of the future are all uncared for! I 
may well envy you the calvi liappiness of an assured 
helief^ the lofty serenity with which one, who has an- 
chored his hopes steadfastly on the future, can, some- 
times at least, if not always, survey the shifting scenes 
of life's panorama ; but there must be no alienation of 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. Ill 

affection, no diminution of confidence between ns, no 
reserve, no estrangement, unless you would indeed have 
me believe that there is really something odiously self- 
righteous, prescriptive and hateful in all religion ! 

So just write on whatever you feel like writing, and 
never doubt that it will all be welcome, even should you 
take it into your head to be so excessively good that 
your "guardian angel" could venture to give up his 
garrison, and you to play Rhadamanthus's old woman, 
and set about correcting everybody's faults but your 
own. Though in that case you might lack for canoniza- 
tion very shortly, for I should be certain to have you 
down on my list as a sort of supplementary saint, more 
especially as there are some vacancies, and I find but 
one here who would, even with the proper training, be 
competent to take the highest honors. However, there 
is little danger of that, I opine, and perhaps it was not 
well, or wise in me, to suppress the fact, that subsequent 
to my attack of scarlet fever, in May last, I was never 
able to trace more than a dozen lines at a time prior to 
my leaving New York, and had not fully recovered from 
the debilitating effects of a change from limestone to 
river water, and vice versa^ when I wrote you last ; for 
it seems you have contrived to torment yourself just as 
much as if you had actually known the worst. 

But I will just thank you not to be quite so ingenious 
in making yourself miserable hereafter, and see no great 
use in your worrying yourself to death to discover "the 
tone of my feelings from the tenor of my letters." They 
form no certain or infallible criterion — Cowper was not 
the only one who ever wrote a facetious article to ward 
off a legion of the blues — and if my spirits are not always 
at the alto pitch, you are not bound to suppose yourself 



112 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

the cause — though 1 don't know, being one of Plato's 
chickens, perhaps you can't help being a little conceited ; 
but there are others who sometimes take the liberty of 
disturbing my equanimity — his saintship for instance. 
You know that as executor on that farce of a will, he 
became heir to the spirit in which it was dictated, and I 
do believe, thinks me a more potent witch than she of 
Endor; for notwithstanding he considers Evelyn alto- 
gether too immaculate to be "art and part" to any of 
my misdoings, he is so jealous of a "malign influence" 
somexDliere^ that his last dispatches exhibit anything but 
dispatch. Yerily, he ought to go down on his knees, 
morning and evening, and pray long and fervently for 
the health and prosperity, spiritual and temporal, of Mr. 
Secrectary Woodbury, (I presume he never heard of 
Junius,) he owes it to him in common justice for having 
revived a phrase so precisely embodying what he wished 
to think. It requires great eflbrt you know, at times, to 
get an idea to assume a palpable form ; but despite his 
implicit confidence and her own peerless perfection, 
Evelyn will "manage" him so, that his aversion to me 
shall not light upon you. And much as it grieves me, 
(knowing him to be a very cordial^" hater,") I feel bound 
to say to himself and others, charitable enough to close 
their eyes so resolutely to the fine assortment of imper- 
fections which I have, and endow me so liberally with 
those I have not, that they really must not flatter them- 
selves I am ^Hnsane^^ enough to reciprocate their ill- 
will, or do anything worse than ^Het them alone very 
severely ^''^ for indeed I do hope to hear their disappro- 
bation very stoically, so long as it continues the same 
matter of perfect indiflerence that it always has been, 
save where your interests were concerned. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 113 

Your opinion, however, is quite another affair ; but 
it's clearly undutiful of you, to suppose I " regret the sacri- 
fice 1 have made, and pine for my native New York and 
the society," voluntarily " relinquished." My brother, 
do you call the unrestricted exercise of your own good-will 
and pleasure a sacrifice f Well, perhaps it may be so 
to you men, who are horn "lords of the ascendant," 
though in that case you must be a very self-sacrificing set, 
and it's melancholy to think how you must yearn for the 
luxury of being more amenable to good advice than you 
commonly are, and what martyrdom you will endure 
rather than allow us "womankind" the special treat of 
"a little brief authority." But did it never occur to 
your wisdom, that it is little, very little, for the bird of 
passage to shake from her dewy plume the germ of a 
mighty tree, but much if when faint and worn with wan- 
dering, she can hope to return, fold her weary wing and 
nestle securely beneath its spreading branches ? As re- 
spects the other intimation — 

I tread a path I sliall not return. 

For a fiery spirit goads me on ; 
And the haughty heart will inly burn 

To grasp the ancient glories gone. 

For life, for life I fly the toil, 

Nor reck I of my being's wane ; 
Let but its lamp supply the oil 

That lights thee on to glory's wane. 

Let but one thought of me awake 

The sleeping god within thy soul, 
How freely would these heartstrings break 

To hail thee first at honor's goal. 

I care not if the cypress shade, 

Fling shadows o'er this form of mine. 

Let but these hands the ivy braid. 
For that resplendent brow of thine. 



114 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES 

Let me but see a lofty race, 

Once more a noble name adorn, 
I'll be the star that hides its face. 

Before the rising god of morn ! 

Lastly, no insinuations about society, if you please. 
I find that which is very good : chiefly among middle- 
aged married people, it is true ; but that is because 
ladies marry earlier here in the South-West than in al- 
most any other civilized country on the globe. Of course 
they cannot be expected to know much about matters 
and things in general ; for it takes tim,e to observe and 
reflect, and they never get beyond sixteen before they 
get out of the state of " single blessedness," or twenty- 
five ever after — they may become widows, you know — 
unless compelled to don a cap or wig to hide their gray 
hairs. 

I believe they were all rather scandalized at not seeing 
the former instead of " natural curls^^ on my arrival ; 
so, to mystify them a little more, often refer carelessly, 
as if eye-witness, to events that occurred about the time 
of my birth, or perhaps five or ten years earlier, and 
then, again, don't choose or don't feel able to recollect 
others that transpired as much later : for all of which, I 
dare say, they think m-e a very bungling romancer ; but 
I can see they are puzzled, and enjoy it finely. A 
straight-forward Yankee query, or regular cross-exam- 
ination, would soon spoil the fun ; but that would be 
the neplus ultra of impertinence, and no Southron could 
be so rude. However, no lady — no Northern one par- 
ticularly — should ever compromise her reputation for 
commmon-sense and veracity by specifying her age at 
all. ISTo lady under fifty is expected to tell hers cor- 
rectly; nor even then, if she chance to be widow or 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 115 

spinster: so, all she would gain by speaking the truth 
would be, to he susjpeoted of telling a falsehood; it 
being customary to add at least two years to the reck- 
oning of any one reported by herself, or friends, to be 
under twenty, and five to that of those admitting them- 
selves so much in the decline of life as to have reached 
what legal courtesy calls "years of discretion." Should 
any temeraire say " thirty^'''' the hearer would, of course, 
take a little more latitude, and add another five* to his 
extra "allowance." 

Mais revenons^ I have as much society as I care for; 
though the misery of these little villages is, rival parties 
are forever on the alert "foolishly and gallantly to stab 
and dirk each other for the crown o' the causeway ! " 
Consequently, the unlucky wight who has the bad taste 
to fancy "sitting on a rail," is in imminent danger of 
being precipitated from his "high estate" into the mire 
of neglect. Could I feel assured no other would ever 
annoy me, I should esteem myself singularly fortunate. 
The genius for "improvement" is by no means peculiar 
to the land of "blue laws ; " but the " ffo-ahead " system 
doesn't seem to flourish in Tennessee as well as might 
be expected, considering that the phrase is indigenous. 
They would cut a canal in New England, or construct a 
railroad in New York, in less time than it takes to pave 
a bit of a sidewalk or make a common twenty-mile 
turnpike in this region. If I might be allowed a con- 
jecture- on anything so much above a woman's ken as 
the cause of this difi'erence, I should say there were too 
many ruling members in all bodies corporate, and too 
few subordinates in proportion. There is much prac- 
tical good sense in the vulgar adage, " too many cooks 



116 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

spoil the h'otJi^^ — to say the least, they retard the cook- 
ing. Moving slow is, too, one of the prescriptive rights 
of all great bodies, and contractors here cannot avail 
themselves of the impetus which "extka wages" 
gives to industry. It is no object with them to get 
three months' work done in two, for, if the poor, silly 
operatives were perverse enough to die in consequence, 
it might not be their own exclusive concern ; and, be- 
sides, they have them to feed, whether they work or not. 
Slavery hangs like an incubus on the wheels of internal 
improvement ; but the recoil afiects the master, not the 
slave, who is your born conservative, and jealous as 
any Lord Eldon of radical innovation and new-fangled 
notions. 

Now, for all this, I expect that when that picture I 
once asked you for does come, the first thing I shall 
spy will be " a great peard," peering out from under a 
nice crimped cap, surmounted by a huge pair of iron 
spectacles, like old Dr. Franklin's ! Hope you'll not 
have the conscience to make me look as much like an 
old grimalkin as he did, if the limners have given us a 
correct version of the matter ; for, truly, there must be 
"more things in heaven and earth than arc dreamt of" 
in woman's philosophy, or the owner of that baboon- 
looking phiz had never electrified the world with any- 
thing but a laugh at his own expense. Nobody shall 
have one at mine though, on seeing me dished up in 
the soujp inaigre of an album; of that I am resolved. 
I have a perfect horror of the things : there is not a gen- 
tleman in all the wide length and breadth of the land 
has half my contemptible opinion of the pretty nothings ; 
and, much as I regret to disoblige so highly esteemed a 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 117 

friend of yours as Mrs. D., must really write " inad- 
missihle^^ on her request. Tell her — anything else; 
but here I am quite impracticable. 

" Some people never know when they are well ofi'," 
and it seems you are one of the number; but, after 
giving you sufficient time to achieve the perusal of this, 
(and digest the Lecture on Political Economy,) I shall 
look impatiently for a response. Gentlemen should 
always be punctual ; though ladies cannot, of course, 
be expected to practice such a counting-house virtue, or 
submit to the drudgery of writing very often ! Evelyn 
requests me to send her love with mine, and says " you 
may now expect to hear from her very soon." So, 
adieu^ au revoh\ mon cherfrere. 

Ever, ever yours, 

Louise. 



LETTER XII. 

GOSSIP WITH AN OLD SCHOOLMATE. 

L , Tenn., May —, 1836 

" Yery well. Miss Lucy: " 

Try some new legerdemain next time, will you ? You 
are see7i tJiroiigJi now^ I do assure you, politic as you 
may have thought yourself, in attempting to atone for 
your own sins of omission by pretending how well other 
people kept me in remembrance! But all health and 
prosperity to the citizens of * * * ; " may they live for- 
ever," for a noble, highly- cultivated, and intellectual 
specimen of humanity as they are. Certes, they must 
be all that, if they persist in calling me "beautiful;" 
10 



118 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

which no one else does " now-a-days," except some dhn- 
sighted old man, unsophisticated, passionless child, or 
dreamy youth whose brain is filled with classic visions 
of Junos, Minervas, and Calliopes! And, really, it is 
quite a relief: who cares to screw a smirk on to one 
side of the face, while a sneer comes of its own accord 
on the other, and all to return a civil answer to a silly 
speech 1 Not I ; do you ? 

Tell that splendid villain, L , he had better keep 

his wife alive as long as he can ; for, when site is gone, 
I intend to take him, nolens volens^ just to punish his 
outrageous impudence ; and won't poor Eveleen's wrongs 
be amply avenged under my administration \ His 
threat of discharging his pill-box at "the counselor" 
means, I suppose, that he would be a formidable com- 
petitor. If you suspect it implies anything more, ask 
him : how should I divine ? I presume he intends his 
" intimation that the year eighteen hundred and thirty- 
eight has come and gone," for a stroke of naivete ; but 
it can't pass ! He has been quite as near the tropics as 
I am — has always had the use of his eyes, ears and 
tongue in great perfection, and must, of course, know 
that all females coming from beyond "thirty-seven de- 
grees, twenty-eight minutes. North," are regarded, in 
this latitude, as so many importations from Noah's 
Ark — sisters or daughters of the proprietor, names not 
mentioned; and, consequently, that his "precautions" 
would, if possible, be even more superfluous than his 
" apprehensions." 

"But, really, Miss," your late trip seems to have 
been quite a voyage of discovery, and very successful, 
too, judging from the quantity of "gold" that glitters 
in your pages. K you need any farther information 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 119 

respecting "gold pencils" and "diamond repeaters," 
apply to Mr. Tonguetied Telltale — "tied" in the middle, 
I mean, so that it runs at both ends ; lie is a very com- 
petent judge of the articles : perhaps you may have 
seen some specimen of his taste in hijoiUerie. And 
now it seems he has turned commentator in addition to 
his other numerous accomplishments, and elucidated 
" certain obscure passages in a vague rumor which you 
never fully understood," (simply because it was never 
intended you should,) "very much to your satisfaction." 
I know you got your enlightenment nowhere else, so 
please say to this Paul Piy, junior, that he really does 
intrude, and I seldom forget; so that if ever I do get a 
chance to pay him off for his gratuitous tattling, he may 
safely reckon on compound interest, though I ought, I 
suppose, to be very thankful that he didn't allow the 
aifair to transpire while I was exposed to moral and 
matrimonial lectures extraordinary, from the whole tribe 
of Saints, who would in that case have felt a redoubled 
zeal for my conversion, not to mention a very godly 
yearning to have all that "worldly wealth," as well as 
my "surpassing talents," brought into the service of 
the Sanctuary." But take shame to yourself for your 
former stupidity, and say nothing more about having 
recently TUdi^Q the precious discovery "that my price 
must be rather high, as neither the Miser's Son nor the 
misers gold could buy" me, nor my pedigree! The 
latter was all "Yea Yerily " wanted, I am confident ; for 
when did lie come to the magnanimous conclusion to 
encumber himself with a wife ? Why precisely when 
he found that I had unrestricted intercourse with a cer- 
tain clique, into which he and his, with all their wealth 
and sycophancy, could then come only just "so far and 



120 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

no farther," and not before. This thing called pride of 
birth, or family pride, may, like the principle of "origi- 
nal sin," (of which perhaps it is only a ramification,) 
be very unreasonable and absurd ; but you may argue 
it out of existence, and ridicule it into nonentity, and 
when you have done up starts the hydra in full life and 
vigor. So I give you fair notice, that if ever I am free 
to ''commit matrimony," "noble or not I," will be my 
motto. I am, at best, no very devout believer in la 
'belle jpassion : but this standing ujp in tJie presence of 
one^s Maker, to swear to three falsehoods in a breathy 
seems to me rather a hazardous experiment for one pair 
of ordinary lungs, and as I don't happen to belong to the 
aforementioned tribe of saints, think it just possible that 
mine might fail me in my hour of utmost need, and leave 
me to die of strangulation; for how a woman expects to 
'■'honor^^ one she contemns, and '•'• ohey^^ one she con- 
siders her inferior, exceeds my comprehension ! 

I am not so incorrigibly stupid though, that I cannot 
learn the worth of money by the want of it, and do ad- 
mit that "a fine fortune's a fine thing," and 150,000 a 
very goodly array of figures; but set a cipher at their 
head, and then see ! If it does not materially alter their 
specific value, there must be some little flaw in my 
"great mathematical powers" somewhere. 

But supposing ever so respectable a figure to stand at 
the head of such a fortune, I doubt whether it would 
much conduce to the happiness of a woman without any 
to become its nominal mistress. "Mated not matched," 
is a remark that would too often apply to such a connec- 
tion. Moore's "hearts never changing and brow never 
cold," is very good poetry, nothing more. He has him- 
self distinctly referred to the "poet's privilege" of being 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 121 

"three removes from truth," and men^ with their cal- 
lous sensibilities and overweening estimate of wealth, 
will, in their moments of irritation or heedless levity, 
let slip no opportunity for taunting their wives with the 
want of it. And then there is no true woman but must 
feel, that in that one hour of sorrow and shame, she has 
paid an exorbitant price for the wealth of a world, could 
it all have been laid at her feet ; were it subject to her 
control, how freely would she give it back, to have those 
words of bitterness unthought and unspoken! They 
were an insult offered to the defenseless, an indignity 
to the helpless, and "the iron" has "entered the soul." 
Men know nothing of all this, for the reason, I believe, 
that very few find any such fastidious scruples in their 
own bosoms. So they can "put gold in their purse," 
it matters little to them how they come by it ; what they 
have that will they hold^ and there is so deeply interwoven 
with every fiber of their natures a calm consciousness of 
power, a pervading sense of superiority, that it never 
enters theb' heads to suppose that any woman horn^ can 
possibly think of them as inferiors ; (the poor conceited 
creatures how they are mistaken ;) but woman is a be- 
ing of a different order. She is seldom allowed the dis- 
posal of property, nor does she greatly desire it; for she 
has learned to feel that it is nothing to her^ further than 
it administers to her present comfort and obviates the 
apprehension of future want. A cross-grained temper, 
or capricious will, often neutralizes one or the other of 
these advantages, and any man, possessed of sufficient 
energy to command the admiration and respect of a sen- 
sible woman, can easily secure her the former. I, yon 
know, should never be able to comprehend how any 
"son of Adam" could confer a favor by wedding my 



122 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

father's daughter; then why should I subject myself to 
the living puppyism, or posthumous tyranny of any 
"wayward clod of marl?" K the old Roman laws did 
classify women and children as "goods and chattels," 
I know no precedent for considering men household fur- 
niture, and see no reason why they should be expected 
to come "in a concatenation accordingly" among my 
ideas of matters and things. 

You see, I have law, and gospel, as well as reason 
and common sense, on my side yet, so no more about 
^'' cwprice^^ if you please. Nature endowed me with a 
Bpice too little of vanity, and too much of pride, for a 
regular coquette ; a fact in natural history which you 
ought to have learned long ago, either from your own 
observation, or the philosophic acumen of the "right 
worshipful" Dr. Longtongue, one too, which you will 
please impart to any of your new found Athenian ac- 
quaintances, who may have been heedless enough to 
contract an erroneous opinion. 

I regret to hear that that once delightful village is 
losing its social and literary character, while advancing 
in wealth and external prosperity ; " in my time " it was 
"like Paris in the days of the gay Boccacio, a place to 
know the reasons of things and the causes of the same 
as became a gentleman." 

Please remind your cousin, Mrs. O., that I made my 
"loyal subject" no "promise" in which she did not 
fiilly participate ; consequently, could only have agreed 
to go into "committee of the whole," and see what ways 
and means could be devised for his relief, " if in making 
the whole tour of the United States, he failed to dispose 
of his single-blessedness." In no supposable case did I 
ever stipulate to take so stale an article off his hands ! 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 123 

It has not been in market so very long, to be sure ; but 
then it is considerably damaged by frequent exposal. 
I think one of his old "flames" used to say, "that no 
young lady of his acquaintance would ever die an ' old 
maid,' for want of having had, at least, one opportunity 
to inscribe Mrs. on her tomb-stone ; though, no doubt, 
he and other gentlemen think they all deserve to do so.^ 
for having rejected him, simply because others had done 
so before them. But that isn't the fair way of stating 
the case ; no gentleman likes to be made the pis oiler 
among his compeers : then why should not a high- 
minded, sensitive lady consider it a covert insult rather 
than a ^'^ compliments^ (Heaven, save the mark! — 1 
wonder what these men think they are ?) for one of the 
bipeds to propose to her, after having made it obvious 
to herself and all her acquaintance that he would prefer 
half a dozen others, if they were to be had ? However, 
this sort of reasoning will not serve your turn, should 
he chance to address you a year or two hence ; so, if 
you happen to fancy him, (and, really, I see no reason 
why you might not,) do not be vexed if I say take Mm., 
for he would be certain to make a caro sposo of the first 
water ; and you know^ he had never seen you when 
making love to your predecessors, a circumstance which 
makes all the diflference imaginable. 

Xow, in place of all this nonsense, I dare say I might 
be much better employed in reading you a wise lecture 
on the inexpediency of going abroad into society before 
leaving school. And, indeed, I should cavil thereat, if 
you were not situated exactly as you are at home ; first, 
because it creates the impression that you are several 
years older than you are; second, because it unsettles 
your mind for study ; and, third, because (if the whole 



124 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

truth must be told,) I don't fancy being seduced into so 
much egotism as I find I am by your allusions to y^ast 
times and old associates. The last time I wrote Stanley, 
I had to forbid him "speaking me any more speeches;" 
but it's no use trying to stop a woman's tongue, (or pen,) 
so I merely forewarn you, that, when " the eye of a 
painter, the tongue of a poet, and the brain of a philo- 
sopher " happen to be located in the head of a woman, 
there is some little danger that the whole concern, (" the 
face of an angel " not excepted,) may be turned topsy- 
turvy by such excessive compliments, coming, too, from 
such a source. If that doesn't suffice, I shall esteem it 
my "bounden duty" to apprise your honored papa, that, 
unless he keeps you at home next vacation, there is a 
remote possibility that you may, in time, become as 
great a gossip as any gentleman of his acquaintance. 
This may sound rather odd to people who hold to the 
old version and take it all for gospel ; but you, I pre- 
sume, have often admired the consummate tact and 
great generosity of " the lords paramount," in making 
over to us, the "better half" of creation, not only the 
exclusive merit of their own excessive talking, but also 
the entire renown of their own extensive achievements 
in the tell-tale line ; and, really, they do deserve great 
credit for their cleverness ! Isn't it rare fun to see one 
of them pretend to rouse up from his book, nap, or 
newspaper, just long enough to say, "Do hush your 
foolish gossip," (how did he know it was gossip if he 
hadn't been listening ?) and then relapse, looking quite 
as wise and a little more virtuous than ever ; though he 
knows very well he has just absorbed the pith of the 
w^hole matter, and is now busy digesting and arranging 
it in a more available form. But "the cream of the 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 125 

joke" is, to see old maids, and other old women, tricked 
out in borrowed plumes, as high -priestesses of Madam 
Eunior, N\*^hen we all know they must derive their inspira- 
tion, directly or indirectly, from the husbands, sons, 
fathers and brothers of themselves or their acquaint- 
ance. I have been " takin' notes," mentally, on this 
subject, for years, "and, faith," I'd like "to prent 
'em;" but it would never do, for there would be all 
the jpTimum inohiles so incensed at finding the tables 
turned, and themselves detected and exposed, that they 
would contrive some way to make their aids and accom- 
plices feel so highly insulted at being rated as mere 
" cats'' -paics^''^ after having been considered principals 
from time immemorial, that poor Truth would fain have 
to betake herself to her old well again, and there's no 
telling whether she ever would make another effort to 
emerge ! 

Should you find yourself rather annoyed and dis- 
gusted by this undisguised exhibition of innate hauteur, 
just thank your own foolish temerity for the infliction; 
and remember that your humble servant is more excusa- 
ble for making Number One preside rather ostentatiously 
in her pages than you could possibly be, while residing 
among what are to both of us familiar scenes. So, in 
place of so much " foreign news," please oblige me with 
a little " domestic intelligence" in your next ! 

You will also please tender my best respects to your 
excellent father, and accept for " Charlie" and yourself 
the assurance of my unabated interest in your welfare. 
Yours, in all sincerity, 

Louise. 
11 



126 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

LETTER XIII. 

ON THE DECEASE OF A FAVORITE BROTHER. 

TO O. F. G. AND LADY. 

B e, Tenn., Aug. 25, 1836. 

My Respected Friends: 

It is with great effort, though mournful pleasure, that 
I turn, at length, from the deepest gloom of self-com- 
munion, to commune awhile with those I believe willing 
to sympathize with me, though it be not in joy, but in 
grief! 

You may have heard ere this, that the brother, for the 
furtherance of whose fortunes my sister and self were 
''strangers in a land not ours," is numbered no more 
among the living! But none can ever learn, save by 
bitter experience, how utterly desolate is the heart when 
its last bud of promise is withered — its last hope is 
blighted — when the solitary star is stricken from the 
horizon, how deep and hopeless is the darkness that en- 
sues ! When last I stood by the grave of a buried father, 
I vainly deemed that fate had done her worst — that come 
what would "the worst had fallen that could befall" — 
vainly indeed, when at that very moment I was concen- 
trating all the powers, and entwining all the affections 
of my nature around one, who was to vie in place of all 
the social relations of life. But oh ! we dreamed not of 
this ! We thought of him, the noble, the talented, and 
the good, as the pride of his name, the ornament of 
" earth's high places," not as the tenant of the lowly tomb! 
To him we looked for a completion of the brilliant profes- 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 127 

sional career, which closed so prematurely in our father's 
early grave. For this have we endured hardship and 
courted danger, self-denial, and toil, " counting" not even 
our lives "as dear unto ourselves," when weighed in the 
balance with aught that "could minister to his pleasure 
or his profit." And now, the clods of the valley press 
heavily down on his young bosom; but colder and 
heavier far on the hearts of the living! And oh, the 
bitter agony of his last hour of consciousness, its specter 
will haunt me to the grave! True, he died not "un- 
tended and unmourned ;" but where was he ? Far away 
from the friends of his youth and the home of liis child- 
hood, and where were they who should have stood by 
that bed of death and soothed the parting spirit ? Far 
off on the distant paths of life, sacrificing ease, and 
health, and social intercourse, submitting cheerfully to 
care, privation, neglect, and indignity — closing the aven- 
ues of the heart to all aflection that might beguile a 
thought from that shrine of the soul's deep idolatry, and 
counting it all honor and happiness thus to sacrifice and 
be sacrificed for him — and all for this^ for this ! Then, 
too, comes the maddening idea, that a knowledge of this 
absorbing interest in him was undoubtedly one cause 
of that ''intense aj)j)lication^'' that accelerated his early 
doom. 

One of his classmates writes : "The physicians think 
your brother's disease a ' hectic, terminating unexpect- 
edly in a brain fever, incurred probably by too early and 
intense application to study, after a partial recovery 
from a severe attack of typhus.' He died June 10th, 
and was interred on the evenino; of the 12th." 

His mortal remains may incorporate with the valley 
of the Connecticut ; his memory there pass away with his 



128 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

associates, but toe shall remember! The one verdant 
spot in the wide waste of existence, the lone spring in 
its desert, they are not lightly forgotten, though the eye 
be gladdened no more w^ith tlieir beauty, nor the heart 
rejoice in their loveliness 1 And oh ! 

He comes no more — lie comes no more — 
The cherished dead whom we bewail ; 
But hopeless hearts shall long deplore 
The sleeper in that distant vale. 

He was the magnet that could bind, 
Hopes, thoughts, affections, all to him ; 

The brilliant focus that combined, 
Rays of a light that grows not dim. 

The light of love that ne'er expires. 

Though hope no more may feed its flame; 

And wrecked ambition shun its pyres. 
To brood o'er dreams of baflOled fame. 

He was the fountain at whose tide 

Our thirsty spirits turned to drink, 
When other founts grew chill, or dried. 

As life hung fainting o'er their brink. 

"We know that he has passed to lands. 
Fairer than all that wooed his stay ; 

But who that treads life's burning sands. 
Exults for streams, far, far away. 

It may be unmitgated selfishness too, that induces me 
to obtrude this expression of my sorrows upon you, when 
I know that how much soever you may sympathize with 
me in this sore affliction, it is utterly impossible for you 
to realize how very, very different is his loss from that 
of a brother under ordinary circumstances ; and, there- 
fore, as you have been pleased to evince a very cordial 
interest in my personal welfare, will endeavor to give 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 129 

some account of my present position and prospects, 
though it seems ahnost sacrilege to think or speak of 
anything but him. 

I reside with Col., brother to Dr. C. H. B., formerly 
of 3'our place. He is an old Yirginian, energetic and 
public-spirited ; and both himself and lady make eveiy 
exertion to render me comfortable as possible. With 
society I have little intercourse ; but what I do see is 
uncommonly good, and has every appearance of being 
perfectly harmonious. My health is similar to what it 
was during the early half of our acquaintance, and I am 
taking wine very freely, not that I care to be well, but 
because it is inconvenient to be sick. The school con- 
sists of older and better classified pupils, and is conse- 
quently more agreeable than that of your village ; my 
"prospects " are said also to be flattering, but it is nothing 
to me nov!)^ and I am not flattered. When my thoughts 
&?st reverted to the necessity of some action in reference 
to the subject, I should have canceled the engagement 
unhesitatingly, could it have been honorably done. But 
it is as well perhaps as it is, having no longer an object 
in life, it is of course no object for me to live, and the 
remaining dregs in my cup of bitterness will probably 
be exhausted sooner in this way than any other. A 
similar feeling, I believe, prompted sister E. to accept the 
proposals of the gentleman who, you know, was disap- 
pointed at finding me pre-engaged. The first half of 
my journey was as agi-eeable as could have been ex- 
pected ; the last proved very lonely and fatiguing. 

Speaking of the route from l^ashville, reminds me of 
the promise to recant my heresy, (if such I found it to 
be,) in claiming for New York the precedence over Ten- 
nessee in point of natural scenery. 



130 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Very possibly the cloud which had fallen on my hopes, 
might have cast a gloom over the landscape, obscm^ing 
many of its beauties, still enough remained to prove that 
I was not altogether blind to their loveliness, yet not 
sufficient to make me retract my former opinion. True, 
"the forests are not surpassed" by any I ever saw, and 
there is almost a moral grandeur about the ancient elm, 
and giant oak, and lordly sycamore, and in these the 
South and West is unrivaled; and the stupendous "six 
days labor of a God " seems almost re-enacted in your 
presence, as you bound rapidly along the narrow ridge, 
dividing ravines, which, as the eye vainly attempts to 
explore their verdant depths, seem as unbroken a mlder- 
ness as when the sun cast his first warm glance of ad- 
miration over the magnificent solitudes of a new-born 
creation ! But when the overwhelming tide of emigra- 
tion shall have rolled its resistless wave over the whole 
length and breadth of the land ; when the improvidence 
of the settlers shall have insinuated their "wasty ways" 
into the inmost recesses of the now impervious wild-, 
stripping the forest of its pride and the vale of its 
beauty ; when the ruthless hand of civilization shall 
have despoiled the mountain of its crown, and driven 
Flora* from her home in the dell ; where, then, will be 
the claims of Tennessee to compete with New York? 
New York ! with her hundred lakes and rivers, now re- 
posing in some beautiful valley, soft as the smile of 
sleeping infancy, now dashing madly onward in scorn 
of all that obstructs their career! her magnificent high- 
lands, with their " cloud-capped brows," and " hues all 
born in heaven! " and the never-to-be-forgotten, peerless 
Niagara^ the last impress of the finger of God on his 
own perfect creation ! 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 131 

Oh no, I cannot yield New York ; though I can tell 
why Evelyn does not appreciate its beauties : she has 
not seen the half of them, her observation having been 
limited, chiefly, to the line of the Erie Canal, which, 
with the exception of a few fine points, intersects the 
least picturesque portions of the state, crossing sections 
of ten, twenty, thirty, and even sixty miles in extent, 
which would closely resemble the "bottoms" in the 
district, had not the careless woodsmen of the last cen- 
tury, in their haste to efiect a clearing, kindled fires, 
which stripped the forest of its foliage for thousands 
and tens of thousands of acres around. The hand of 
Time has partially repaired the ravage of man and the 
elements ; but hundreds of these skeletons of the past 
yet remain, lifting their scathed trunks, and naked arms 
and blackened brows to the sunbeams, and casting the 
gloom of their own desolation alike on their own up- 
start children of the forest and the sons of their ancient 
spoliators ! In truth, it is not easy to imagine any thing- 
more dismal ; still, these are but specks on the fair face 
01 the state ; yet, I fancy, sister's disparaging opinion 
of its scenery may fairly be traced to the disagreeable 
impression received, while an invalid child, from this 
very source. 

Being " scant o' room," I must close by tendering my 
compliments to yourselves and daughters, and the fami- 
lies of Messrs. A., B. and C. Please say to the Misses 
D. that I will redeem the promise made them soon^ 
though they must no longer expect to derive any pleas- 
ure from its fulfillment. 

With great respect, I remain 

Your obliged and sorrowing friend, 

* * * 



132 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

"THEY MAY DEEM 'TIS THE LOYE OF ANOTHER." 

Explanatory Lines^ addressed to Mrs. H. II. B. 

They may deem 'tis the love of another 

Wakes the tear that is falling from me ; 
But my heart's " one love^^ O my brother! 
Was given, in life's dawning, to thee ! 
Its dark'ning shadow o'er the soul 

No other love had power to cast ; 
For thou wert to existence's goal 

My guiding star through all the past. 
In thy grave there have perished 

The glad tones of thy mirth, 
And the hopes I had cherished 
From the hour of thy birth ! 

Proudly thy image rose before me ; 

But life is dim since thou art gone, 
And one, in thought, is bending o'er thee, 
Who mourns that morning vision flown I 
Light smile and careless jest may seem 

A lighter spirit's echoing tone ; 
But, O my soul ! thy wand 'ring dreair 
Is not of earth — to thee 'tis lone ! 
Yes, " the last link is broken" 
That could bind me to earth ; 
For the death dirge is spoken 
O'er thy genius and worth ! 
December 26, 

"AND PILATE SAID, 'WHAT IS TRUTH ?'" 

Aye, what is it ? Ages on ages roll. 
Yet bring no answer ! Millions on millions 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 133 

Echo back that Roman quest ; yet still 
The spirit-thirst remains unslaked ! 

Light for the darkened mind ! 
Helpless immortal, on the shores of Time 
I wander in a labyrinth of doubt : 
Coming, I know not whence — tending, 
I know not whither ! 

" Blind leaders of the blind ! " O ye 
Do still persist in " darkening counsel," 
With high-sounding phrase, devoid of knowledge ! 
And God's own sacred Word, full of all high 
And holy things, is but a sealed book, 
Or one vast mystery, to minds like mine, 
Bound in "iron gyves" sectarian hands 
Have forged for human intellect ! 

Vain, vain — but, O that I had never heard 
A text, or sermon, homily or prayer 
Till now ! Then Truth, with all her majesty, 
Might glide gently into my troubled heart, 
Charming its wayward thoughts to peace — winning 
For guerdon, glad homage to her Author ! 

My very brain is graven o'er and o'er 

With "creeds" and "proofs," and "commentaries !" 

I see the sophistry, yet feel its thrall — 

Chafe in my bonds, but cannot shake them off! 

Unhallowed hands have grafted human thought 

Upon thy context. Inspiration ! 

I do detect the fraud, but not discern 

The truth. Philistines of the moral world. 

Ye have destroyed my mental vision ! 

Worse, icorse ! — ye do traduce your Maker 



134 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

To his lace! The mighty mockek! scoffing 
And taunting wretches he has made and marked 
For vengeance — making fair show of pardon 
Not to be won — insulting with false hope 
The hopeless ! 'Tis false ! Ye paint a demon, 
Not a God ; and meet for such the worship 
Ye award him. 

The spirit's mystic love 
For all of melody and beauty, 
"What is it but unconscious incense 
That the soul wafts ever to its Maker, 
Untiring and untired ? And yet, " 'tis sin /" 

Life's noblest gifts must be despised ; 

Proud monuments of Thought, that genius builds 

For immortality — a malison 

Is on — we may not turn to scan you ! 

Music, blest echo of archangel harps 

Pealing their mighty anthems through all time 

And space, thou too, thou too^ must be contemned! 

Fair Flowers, that are the poetry of earth, 

E'en as the stars are that of Heaven, 

Written w^ith God's own finger on the page 

Of vast creation, ye too are under ban — 

We must not dream to love ye ! 

"Diviners, 
Ye are mad ! " Know ye full well 
AVhat 'tis ye ofier ? Scorn for His gifts, 
Scorn fit homage to Omnipotence ? 
'Tis impious! Away, aioay ! never. 
No never! 'neath dogmatists of sects 
And schools, shall quail the lofty spirit 
God hath given j * * * * 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 135 

* * * Turn we to earth, Man writes 
No corollaries there ! The happy sun, 
And gentle dews, the loving light of night's 
Most holy eyes, efface the sullying 
Impress ! 

Father of life, 
And light! one beam from thy effulgence shed, 
To guide the deep, impassioned worshiper. 
Of "all that makes life, poetry, and beauty," 
From Nature's peerless shrine, up to the Throne 
Of Nature's mighty God ! 

Sunday Evening, August, 1837 

Bright worlds of Nature, and of Thought, 
It is no sin to love you ! And blessed. 
Ever blessed be His name, who through 
The beautiful, has led me to the true ! 
The light of youth, of health, of hope, declines; 
The Star of Bethlehem never wanes ! 

Sept., 1843. 



LETTER XIY. 

NONSENSE-TENNESSEE AND SLAVERY. 

B e, Tenn., Sept. lOtk, 1837. 

My Deak C: 

Your very welcome epistle was yesterday received by 

the way of B e, N. Y., and I do hereby recommend 

my example, in the direction of letters, for your imita- 
tion, until such time, at least, as the Post-Office Depart- 
ment shall have made it necessary for its officials to 



136 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

understand the contractions in general use for designating 
the several States of the Union. It is nothing uncommon 

for me to receive letters "forwarded" from B e, Pa., 

to B e, N. J., and from thence to B e, Tennes- 
see; and I have just learned that one of mine made a 
ten months' tour before arriving at its destination. Sorry 
to say I cannot inform you whether it had made proper 
improvement by its travels; sorry, also, that your re- 
taliatory measure failed, (partially at least,) of the in- 
tended effect, cause and consequence being alike buried 
in oblivion until you saw fit to turn resurrectionist. 

As the "adventure" might have amused you, I re- 
gret not having related it all in due time ; but now can 
only say it was something about a handsome Dutchman, 
who thought it very miraculous that the tout ensemble 
of winter-stage traveling did not demonstrate me to be 
either an idiot or a shrew. Whereupon the compliment 
he paid was elegant enough to have emanated from the 
pen of Washington Irving himself ; but alas, and again 
alas ! it is forgotten^ or it should be written down for 
the benefit of the "rising generation." Moreover, the 
said individual happening to hear me say of luhishers^ (in 
reply to a lady who called upon me to condemn them 
en masse ^ out of special compliment to the carrotty ones 
of her husband,) that " in general I thought them rather 
a bearish appendage," did, in addition to sundry minor 
items, such as "hand, heart and fortune," actually lay 
the finest pair man ever wore at my feet ! 

While the nineteenth century can boast one instance 
of chivalric devotion like this, it is base slander to say 
"the Age of Romance is over;" aye, or the Age of 
Folly either, when "a penniless lass wi' a long pedi- 
gree," shall reject a gentleman of respectable talents, 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 137 

good general information, and splendid fortune, simply 
because he happens to want a classical education. 
Thank your stars, child, you were not in Tennessee, or 
your mittimus for a lunatic asylum would have been 
made out long since 1 However, if Carlton be the suc- 
cessor, /shall only say, he is one of my prime favorites, 
whom I should be sorry to see walking in the footsteps 
of Ms predecessor. My compliments to him always, but 
tell him I am astonished at the want of humanity evinced 
in his tantalizing questions! "Fair and fat," is, to the 
best of my knoweldge and belief, the "beau ideal" of 
Tennessee beauty; so I, being only "fair," stand no bet- 
ter chance here than elsewhere. And ought he not to 
know, the testifying to a disagreeable fact, is "gall and 
wormwood" to an unwilling witness ? And will it not 
suffice that one of the Fates spins my thread of the 
"black worsted," and the other forgets to clip it; but he 
must needs have assurance of the same under my hand 
and seal ? Oh the times ! Oh the manners ! 

To prevent the repetition of such scandalous impertin- 
ence, thus much will I condescend: Should I ever fall 
away from the ancient and honorable, though unhonored, 
order of spinsters, I will proclaim my defection imme- 
diately. Till then he must be content to know, that if it 
is my misfortune to be single, not my fault, that circum- 
stance should excite compassion, not censure ; if the 
latter, I bide the result, there let it rest. A word to you 
en passant^ my dearie. Is not the citriosity manifest 
in your formidable list of interrogatories, rather suspi- 
cious e^ddence, that with you a certain coming event is 
casting its " shadow before," present appearances to the 
contrary notwithstanding? Beware! "Gather May 
garlands while 'tis May;" but do not "find other hearts 



138 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES 

to fling away," if you value the peace of your own. 
You see I lay my injunctions ex cathedra upon you, in 
return for the unwelcome task imposed upon, me; but 
though reluctant, (as usual,) to do as I am bidden, sup- 
pose I may as well execute your commission at once ; 
and should you chance to get rather more than you bar- 
gained for, you will be less likely to send another order, 
I think. 

This same obnoxious / occurs too often ; but what is 
to be done, being in the singular, one cannot assume the 
imperial we? My blessing on digression, how it helps 
one along, not with the story though ; so jpouv com- 
mencer : 

East Tennessee is said to be the roughest, most bro- 
ken, and least civilized portion of the State ; but like the 
Middle, contains, I am told, much romantic and beauti- 
ful scenery. The latter includes the Capital and most 
prominent literary institutions. The District, (between 
the Tennessee and Mississippi,) is about as picturesque as 
certain portions of Erie county were at the precise date 
of " that rather pleasant trip of ours " to the Falls. So 
close indeed is the analogy, that some of the hotels are 
perfect fac similes of the identical Dutch tavern you wot 
of, in the village w^ithout a name. But the resemblance 
ends here. This vast alluvion is rapidly emerging from 
its wilderness state, and bearing ample testimony to the 
enterprise, intelligence, and clear-sighted, liberal-minded 
policy of those who have sought for themselves, and 
their children's children, a home and a name in the 
bosom of a mighty forest. 

It is generally the hardy and industrious poor, whose 
only resources are stout hearts and strong hands, that are 
seen leading, with praiseworthy zeal, the vanguard of 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 139 

civilization. Not so here ! The unusual number of 
opulent individuals who have brought their capital, 
their talents and influence to a new and wide field of 
exercise, forms a remarkable feature in the history of 
Tennessee. The children of the earlier settlers must 
necessarily have wanted many advantages which they 
are struggling most nobly to secure to their own off- 
spring ; and for this reason, I opine, would find small 
favor in your fastidious eyes, and you as little in theirs, 
I ween; for, though "love in a cottage" may do very 
well, yet " Love," without a plantation and plenty of 
negroes to tend it, would be sorely puzzled to find a 
resting-place for the sole of his foot in this valley of the 
Mississippi. "Disinterested aflection" is not the guide 
sane people here charter for Hymen's portals ! This is 
spoken as matter of history, not reproach; for, though 
in the estimate of woman, ("whose highest ambition is 
to be loved even as she loves, with uncalculating sim- 
plicity and unsuspecting trust,") such a state of things 
may seem mercenary, sordid, and heartless, in the ex- 
treme ; still it has its redeeming features — its bright as 
well as dark side. Where it prevails there are fewer 
wives and daughters precipitated, by the loss of hus- 
bands and fathers, from their stations in life and the 
enjoyment of all the luxuries which man's pride, if not 
his aflection, ever strives to concentrate around his 
hearth, into the depths and degradation of poverty, to 
cope as best they may with all its attendant hardships 
and humiliations — far fewer than where people are ad- 
dicted to the folly of falling in love, "they know not 
why and care not wherefore." 

Many of the inhabitants are, for the present, domes- 
ticated in log-cabins, and the gentlemen frequently 



140 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

attired in "homespun;" but you are to recollect — that 
is, if you desire to form a correct opinion — that they are 
no more to be compared with those yoio see in a like 
predicament, tlian were the courtly barons of olden 
time, who wrote their names with a "cross of the 
dagger," to the serfs, their vassals, who resembled 
them only in this unfortunate particular. Captious 
people will complain — of course, it is their vocation, 
and the want of elegant society is a prolific theme ; but 
nowhere have I found a race more distinguished for 
manly bearing and "gentle courtesie" than the "bold 
hunters of the West." They want, it is true, the high 
polish of their Atlantic brethren ; but then they excel 
them in that liberality of sentiment which is a sure 
guarantee that, at no distant day, they will rank second 
to none. And, with the single exception of a lurking 
suspicion that everybody North of the Ohio and Poto- 
mac is at least twenty years old at the moment of birth, 
and an Abolitionist into the bargain, the people of Ten- 
nessee, as a community, are less the slaves of sectional 
jealousy and illiberal prejudice than any other states- 
men of my acquaintance. When dressed for scenes of 
amusement or display, as churches, balls, camp-meet- 
ings, etc., they would be apt to incur the epithet, 
"Pari'cnw," from the staid, Quaker-like, Dutch and 
Yankee aristocracy ; but it is mere difference of custom : 
the wealth that the one class buries in magnificent 
saloons, the other invests in the more portable form of 
jewels and " gorgeous apparel." 

The ladies are not as intelligent, in general, as those 
found in corresponding walks of life in the Northern 
and middle states, for the obvious reason that they are 
sent to school late and removed early, and have a per- 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 141 

feet convietion, while there, that the chances of forming 
an eligible match (the great object in life,) can in no- 
wise be affected by the improvement made of their 
time. Still they have acumen enough to discover that, 
let men talk as much as they will of the " charms of 
intelligence, dignity of manner, modesty, propriety, 
etc.," the precise modicum of sense which pleases 
them best whenever they come to act^ is that which 
barely enables the possessor to discern, that, weak and 
ignorant though he may be in the abstract, her lord and 
master is talented and wise in comparison with herself. 
It is high treason to the majesty of man, I know, to 
accuse him of a feeling he is ashamed of, and will some- 
times disavow in good set terms ; but let him declaim, 
if so he please: it is all moonshine when he has done. 
The lords of creation do, in their secret souls, believe 
" a woman is not a reasoning animal," only an amusing 
pet or useful article of household furniture; and the 
ladies of Tennessee have the sagacity to accommodate 
themselves to the real sentiments of those whom they 
wish to please, and affect childish habits and expres- 
sions to secure their object. One of the former most in 
vogue is the keeping a running accompaniment to every- 
thing said, on their watch-chains, finger-rings, and other 
personal ornaments. I set this down to affectation, be- 
cause it is not practiced in circles exclusively feminine ; 
and those most addicted to it have been accustomed to 
the society of gentlemen from the cradle, so it surely 
cannot arise from diffidence. But let individuals once 
come to the conclusion that tliey can dispense with these 
fooleries, or that it is no concern of theirs what pleases 
or displeases the lordly sex, and they will soon vindicate 
their claims to the noblest of Nature's endowments. 
12 



142 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Early marriages are the only ones popular ; and a 
lady fairly convicted, npon her own confession, of re- 
maining single up to the time when most females in 
higher latitudes leave school, would stand in imminent 
danger of being condemned to the lonely w-alks of 
" single blessedness," or sentenced to the menagerie 
of some old widow^er for life. How far these early 
marriages, by imposing on children the exposure and 
toil incidental to overseers and tailors, may contrib- 
ute to the short date of human life, for which the cli- 
mate stands impeached, I shall leave physiologists to 
determine. Once wives, however, the ladies of the dis- 
trict find little attention paid to Byron's suggestion^ 
'' that married ladies have the preference in tete-a-tete 
or general conversation;" they are not even allowed the 
pre-eminence in " dipping," that is, eating snuif from the 
end of a stick for half an hour at a time, under pretense 
of cleaning the teeth. If you are still rather benighted 
as to the modus ojperandi^ just imagine a bevy of ladies 
recently from table, or seated, perhaps, in a carriage, round 
a bottle of the darling "Scotch," plying their tongues 
and brushes with equal assiduity, and rivaling the most 
veteran ^^ cliewer'''' in the dispensation of saliva; you 
will then be pretty well au fait to this interesting pro- 
cess. Imitation is the height of flattery, you know, and 
the noun masculine isn't often squeamish enough to 
reject it, (in broken doses) ; but now, instead of being 
duly propitiated and properly grateful, tlie gentlemen 
are perverse enough to make 5?/_^ernaturally ugly faces, 
and insist that " it's very disgusting y It's all sheer 
spite, I haven't a doubt, and comes from "brooking no 
' rival near the throne ' " (of the tobacco- worm I mean) ; 
but so it is, and I need not add that they — to my 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 143 

immoi-tal envy of the toga virilis — are almost uniformly 
spared the exhibition. Still the practice is very general, 
I believe a majority of the young ladies •' tote a hoxP 

It is not my intention to claim for the other half of 
community, exemption from the common frailties of hu- 
manity ; and it has sometimes occurred to me, that the 
Tennessee " code of honor" was graduated a little too 
much on the scale of interest. Or in other words, that 
there was a want of that stern adherence to Truth, which 
should characterize the man and the gentleman — of that 
high-toned moral feeling which makes him regard his 
word as his bond, and feel hound hy it as a prisoner 
to his captor, " rescue or no rescued It may be, that the 
fact of having suffered personal inconvenience and pe- 
cuniary loss fi-om the exercise of this '' Punic Faith," 
has enlightened me a little prematurely on the subject ; 
but I think I have set down " nought in malice" — sorry 
indeed should I be to cast the shadow of a shade, on the 
good faith of a whole community, because a few individ- 
uals in it had betrayed my confidence. 

From my earliest infancy have I been tau2:ht that, 
surrounded by crowds, I was to be emphatically alone ^ 
''among them not of them," an alien from human sym- 
pathy, an exotic in the garden of creation ! It was a 
lone and desolate doom — not spoken in kindness — but 
it has wrought its own fulfillment ; and given me, at the 
same time, the unenviable faculty of looking on my kind 
as one might be supposed to do on beings of another 
species — liable indeed to err from ignorance of his sub- 
ject ; but not likely to examine it through the distorted 
optics of passion, or prejudice. I have set up a claim 
to infallibility, you see, it was necessary before entering 
on a topic discussed only by soi disant oracles. 



144 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Pout Monsieur^ voire jpere^ Je m,e w' etonne pas du 
marl de sa femme^ qHl aurait de la grande symjpaihie 
car V Esclave j mais vous^ ma helle coicsine^ "are ye 
gane clean demented," that ye must needs be "speering 
after" my sentiments on abolition ? One might divine 
what they were from my uniform silence I should sup- 
pose; but as you make it "convenient to be owre 
stupid" of late, presume you intend having them stated 
explicitly for your edification. Much good may it do 
you; but "no tricks upon travelers if you please" — 
catch me " arranging my ideas" when you know very 
well I always did confess to the true feminine aversion 
for everything in the shape of argument. IN^o, indeed, 
if I have to furnish "stock in trade," you may assort it 
to suit yourself. 

But my honest opinion is, that mankind do love to be 
imposed upon; and that there are, and always have 
been, some dear lovers of " the people," who for Public 
good (and private feud), are ever able and willing to 
gratify this amiable propensity. Witness: Salem Witch- 
craft, Billy Morganism, and sundry other popular amuse- 
ments of the kind. For my own part, I must confess to 
a most patrician scorn for Mobism and Humbuggery 
in all their ramifications. A mob I understand to mean, 
a mass of factious individuals, whether assembled or not 
the elements are the same ; and it is just as true now as 
ever it was, that " the greater part know not wherefore 
they come together." Once in my life, I recollect being 
infected myself with one of these periodical fever-fits of 
humanity, denominated the Greek Cause; and how did 
it terminate ? Why the alms, the prayers, and the sym- 
pathies of a whole people were enlisted in behalf of the 
" Cradle of Intellect," to be most basely betrayed. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 145 

How, you will not, of course, expect me to recollect any 
better than A. A., of juvenile pretensions, did, events 
of the last war, to wit: ''^very indistinctly y But the 
consequence was, with me it wrought a perfect cure : 
the world has overdrawn its credit, now I must have 
instalments instead of drafts — proofs in place of asser- 
tion. And when I hear people speak " great swelling 
words," about " emancipating the slave," or ameliorat- 
ing his condition," I desire to know first, if that condi- 
tion be susceptible of essential improvement ; Second, 
if it really be their intention to effect it ; and finally, if 
the avowed object be attainable by their interference. 

Slavery is undoubtedly an evil. It was pronounced 
as a curse ^ a perpetual curse, upon a certain portion of 
the human family ; but should not Christians pause, be- 
fore they attempt to overturn a system as distinctly re- 
cognized in the volume of Inspiration, as the connection 
between ruler and people, parent and child ? Had that 
system been really displeasing in the eyes of "Him who 
seeth not as man seetli," why was not the " Father of 
the Faithful" admonished of his turpitude in this partic- 
ular ; and why did not the Apostle Paul, who was famil- 
iar with the rigors of Roman bondage, say to the mas- 
ter — "Piratical rascal, emancipate yoior slave"^^ — to 
the latter, " cut your master^ s throat if he refuses to do 
50," instead of preaching kindness and forbearance to the 
one, diligence and submission to the other ?• It does ap- 
pear to me, that a candid man who reads his Bible to 
form an opinion, not to strengthen a preconceived one ; 
will be constrained to admit that Abolition principles 
must be traced to some other source ; — perhaps to the 
specious sophism that "all men are born free and equal!" 
Caviling at the first item in the Declaration of Inde- 



146 LETTEKS AND MISCELLANIES. 

pendence, is, I know, audacity without precedent, or 
parallel ; nevertheless I shall say it may be a very good 
philosophical truth ; but I am sure it is a moral and po- 
litical falsehood! "All men born free and equal!" 
Are they indeed ? Then why talk of slavery, or w^hy 
invest one infant with all the appliances of wealth, while 
another is cast forth in the very moment of birth to nak- 
edness and starvation. 

I have allowed slavery to be an evil — perhaps one of 
the greatest incidental to humanity ; still I am not pre- 
pared to admit, that it is at all comparable to the unmit- 
igated curse of poverty, which consigns to unremitting 
servitude hundreds and thousands of the nominal free ! 
I know from actual observation, that one " factotum," 
or servant of all work at the North, will perform more 
drudgery than is commonly exacted of three slaves at the 
South. Yet no sympathy is sought to be excited for 
these " o])jpre88ed sons and daughters'^ of Europe and 
America ! As Byron once said of the poor Irish, ''''How 
unfortunate for tJiern that they did not happen to be 
bom black" — then, they might hope to come within the 
pale of a philanthropist's species, I suppose. The slaves 
of the South are far better off than the white servants 
of the free States, so far as I can judge, and my oppor- 
tunities for observation have, as you know, been consid- 
erable. They are " caved for " in sickness and in 
health, well fed and clothed, and not worked hard. In- 
deed I have known many " daughters of palaces," of 
which they were the ornament and pride, actually per- 
form as much manual labor as most house servants here 
are expected to execute. That field-negroes are not 
heavier tasked in proportion to their strength, may 
fairly be inferred from the fact, that they can, and often 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 147 

do, complete their tasks several hours earlier than usual, 
and then d^mce half the nig'ht after. Not long since I 
heard a gentleman exclaim, in reference to a certain 
lady, " Look here, — does not slie profess to be a Chris- 
tian^'' in tones that carried instant conviction lioio in- 
compatible he thought her practice and profession. 

You will smile when I say the exceptionable practice 
was, the keeping her servants employed (late in Au- 
tumn) two hours " after night," that is " candle light," 
in the manufacture of their own clothes. Her being at 
the time on a Red River Plantation where she could hot 
buy, did not excuse her. I wonder how often a IS^orth- 
ern master, or mistress would feel any compunction for 
such a sin ? With the name of " slave," negroes enjoy 
^more real liberty than most servants styled " Free." 
They are exempt from care for the future — they know 
that let the world shift round them as it will, their hread 
is sure ! They are also free from that canker of the 
soul, the envy and hopeless repining of a white, cajoled 
by the cant of republicanism into a belief of his equal- 
ity with those necessity compels him to serve; and found 
in that anomalous state where the hireling is suspended 
half way between his employer's station and his own ; 
and only made to feel what that is, at the moment when 
the knowledge is most galling to his pride, and most 
mortifying to his feelings.* 



*This may be unintelligible to persons not aware that in many parts 
of the Free States, it is quite common for the native "Helps," (who 
■would be mortally insulted if styled servants), to stipulate, that they 
" shall be as good as the rest of the family ;" that is, admitted to their 
society, a place at their table, a seat in their pews at church, etc., etc. 
Necessity frequently extorts a seeming assent, and in extreme cases, 
lady-visitors and domestics are sometimes introduced : but that " cere- 



148 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

That African slaves are incalculably better oft' here 
in bondage, than their progenitors were in the savage 
freedom of their foreign home, no one can deny who 
has heard from the lips of a native, a description of the 
horrible cannibalism and brutal ferocity of these "sim- 
ple children of nature ! " I have often seen an aged wo- 
man in L , who says she never knew what it was to 

feel ''secure of her life for an hour till she came to 
America — her father, or brothers might have dispatched 
her at any time." And I am at this moment in the 
house of a lady, whose mother once rescued an infant of her 
own from being roasted alive to pamper the morbid 
appetites of a fresh gang of Guinea men. An unusual 
chattering in one of the negi'o cabins arrested her atten- 
tion, and stepping to the door she sav:> the emhers al- 
ready prejyared to receive the unconscious child, now 
firmly grasped in the arms of one, who, more intelligent 
than the rest, had observed the value ^^luhite people^'^ 
set upon their children, and resisted all their threats and 
promises, exclaiming "J/z^-^^rw^ Picaninny ! Mistrus 
Picaninny! " He afterward said that in his counti'y it 
was nothing uncommon for a father to take his child 
from the mother'' s arms^ bury it in the warm ashes and 
set his foot or war club on it till its struggles were over. 
And the gang, I am told, were more astonished at the 
unreasonable and unheard of opposition they had met, 
than enraged at their disappointment. What, not al- 
low them a Picaninny to roast when tired of other food ? 
Absurd ! what else were they good for 1 There is Arca- 
dian life for you. 

mony" is very apt to be " forgotten" — omitted — and, as might be ex- 
pected, the obnoxious conditions are almost uniformly evaded in pres- 
ence of company. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 149 

But you will ask, why slaves ever plot against or 
abandon their masters, if, on the whole they are com- 
fortable or contented ? I answer, because they, like 
other people, do not always feel content to "let ''well 
enough^ alone" — for the same reason that mankind are 
alway sighing after an unattained and unattainable some- 
thing beyond their reach. It is because "the uneradica- 
ble taint of sin " has spread its foul contamination, wide 
and deep, over a whole moral universe. '^Aye, but has 
not the whip some agency in the matter," you exclaim. 
" We do not inflict corporal punishment on oury^^^ ser- 
vants" — I beg your pardon, "helps" — groiv7i ones^ you 
mean — and true you do not, hecause you have it in your 
power to turn them from your doors when idle or refrac- 
tory, to send them to the police if dishonest ; the case is no 
longer parallel, take something else which is correlative, 
as for instance, the minority of children, apprentice in- 
dentures, state's prison regulations, naval and military 
discipline ; and what do their annals proclaim ? Why, 
that when one human being comes in possession of an- 
other, "to have and to hold," "for better for worse" — 
peaceable if possible^ forcible if necessary^ is the motto 
upon which mankind, in all countries and all ages, have 
universally been constrained to act. If there is a bet- 
ter, I should like to see it exemplified. 

But why do I reply ? Let the tale of the English 
sailor on Lake Erie answer. From such ruthless bar- 
barity the strong arm of law protects the American 
slave, though the free-born Briton perish in its fangs; 
and the much stronger one of public opinion brands 
with indelible infamy the master who is cruel to his 
slave. The mark of Cain is upon him; let him go 
where he will, his reputation haunts him like a shadow ; 
13 



150 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

he is set down for a dangerous neighbor, an unkind hus- 
band, an unnatural father, a monster in the shape of a 
man. This correct moral feeling must inevitably exert 
a powerful sway over the passions of a people, nervously, 
I had almost said ridiculously, sensitive on the score of 
reputation. And that I have read the feeling of the 
South on this point correctly, witness the sudden and 
stern retribution that fell on the mistress of the "female 
slave in New Orleans," whose case the Misses Grimke 
so triumphantly quote, to prove that such scenes are 
frequently enacted in families, though the guest knows 
it not. A lady may conceal her domestic mismanage- 
ment from a morning visitor, but will not an intimate 
acquaintance detect it in the course of a week, think 
you ? Visits at the South are not limited to hours, and 
your Southron is not the man to go about with a smiling 
brow, "nursing his wrath to keep it warm," much less 
to perpetrate an act of cold-blooded ferocity. 

Having alluded to the Misses Grimke, who I suppose 
are still "exhibiting" at the North, I will add, that 
they are the daughters of Judge, and sisters of the late 
Hon. Thos. S. Grimke, of Charleston, S. C, of course 
from the first circles of society, and I am told, ^''very in- 
telligent ^ But while I respect their " undoubted good 
intentions," I cannot but surmise, that the fact of their 
being still "^A^ Misses Grhnke'^^ (though old enough, 
it seems, to manage their own affairs their own way,) 
has something with their faith and practice. Energetic 
minds, my dear C. — and some such there are even in 
woman's fragile form — must have scope for action, and 
if it be not found in the hallowed home of affection, it 
will be sought elsewhere, it may chance to be in the 
surveillance of their neighbor's affairs, politics, speech- 



TETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 151 

making, "pill-taking, or the like innocent amusements." 
Perhaps they may learn in their travels, that people 
must take the world as they find it, not as they fancy 
they would like to make it, and that while wealth con- 
fers power, poverty must yield submission. But the 
respect so freely accorded to tJieir integrity of purpose 
I cannot extend to their coadjutors. Some may have 
commenced impostors and ended dupes ; a very few who 
are neither fanatics nor fools may still rank among them ; 
but the majority, I fear, act upon the Demetrius princi- 
ple — "Sirs, know ye not that by this craft we have our 
wealth ?" If "proofs" to the contrary are extant, what 
and where are they ? As yet I see nothing more than the 
petty punctuality of an adroit swindler, bent on defraud- 
ing you to a large amount. Of course you will under- 
stand it is of the leaders I speak ; but who are they, pray ? 
It seems not even infamy can drag them from obscurity. 
Before entering upon the last "count in the indict- 
ment," it is necessary to advert, (slightly as possible,) 
to another grave charge very seriousl}^ brought against 
slavery by advocates of emancipation, namely, that "it 
encourges licentiousness." This is a bad subject for a 
lady's pen, and were it not that omission might be con- 
strued admission, most gladly would I pass it over alto- 
gether. But having observed for several years, that 
nearly all ''runaways" were described as "yellow," or 
"bright" — that is, with a cross of the white blood more 
or less remote — I suppose there must be some grounds 
for the allegation. Still if certain infamous statistics — 
I mean exactly what I say, infamous statistics^ not 
merely statistics of infamy — published a few years since 
in some of the northern cities, contained one truth to 
ten falsehoods, the reproach does not come with a good 



152 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

grace from that quarter — they are not entitled to "cast 
the first stone." And I put it to any man of common 
sense and common honesty, to say, if in his opinion, the 
evil would be like to be obviated, by bringing superiors 
and inferiors of the same race and color into the fre- 
quent and familiar contact and association which must 
inevitably ensue wherever negro slavery is abolished ? 
If so, where is that High Priest of "Moral Reform," 
Rev. Mr. M'Dowal, the arch panderer, with all his vir- 
tuous furor? "Othello's occupation's gone," though, 
now I come to think of it, I believe he and his journal 
were both suppressed long ago as a public nuisance. If 
they were not they ought to have been, for never was a 
more pestilent device for running all decency out of ex- 
istence in an ill-judged crusade against vice. However, 
peace to his ashes, if he has made his apotheosis ; though, 
I fear, if one were to examine too nicely, his mantle 
might be found to have fallen on some shoulders where it 
sits quite as ungracefully as it would on any this side 37 ° 
28' north. I do not mean to assert, that no such thing 
as illicit intercourse ever exists between master and 
slave, for if the cause require a single falsehood or mis- 
representation in its defense, it shall be abandoned at 
once to those more expert than myself in the use of such 
weapons, if there be any truth in the old adage, that 
"practice makes perfect." Better to worship truth al- 
ways at the bottom of the well, than see her elevated to 
the surface only to become the foot-ball of every intellec- 
tual gladiator. But I do very sincerely believe such 
conduct to be far kss frequent than you of the north 
suppose; not quite so common, at least, as to reconcile 
a Southern community to the idea of Amalgamation. 
^^ Disru;ption of family ties^' might be urged with 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 153 

far gi'eater propriety, for, indeed, this is no small evil ; 
though, fortunately, mutual pride and aftection, as well 
as religion and humanity, are continually rising up more 
and more for its suppression. I dare say, the idea of 
^^ mutual affection" is all "heathen Greek" to you; 
but only turn to old Scottish history or romance, and 
see the devotion of clansman to chief — the pertinacity 
with vrhich laird and foster-brother just rvill wink at 
each other's enormities — and you will have a much 
clearer conception of the case. It's a pity the really 
honest and humane wouldn't, instead of looking only 
at the side of the shield their own hands have painted, 
take time to observe how often the freed slaves of New 
York are driven back, as pests and nuisances, naked 
and destitute, to the shelter of their old homes, by those 
who have no knowledge of, and no forbearance with, 
the real ingrain negro nature. Probably they never 
dream of one man's ofiering " two prices" for another's 
slave, or taking half the value for his own, rather than 
part man and wife, and another's saying, ' ' Choose your 
inaster^'' (which means that a hundred or so, more or 
less, isn't to stand in the way of such choice), and a 
third, virtually " throwing in a child or two," to avoid 
separating young ones from their mother, or of servants, 
put up at public sale or hire, saying, ''^ I shanH serve 
you^ sir^''^ an intimation which few venture to disre- 
gard at the risk of being "bedeviled out of time, money, 
and patience into the bargain ; " but I think they would 
be apt to get pretty much out of conceit of themselves, 
or disgusted with the objects of their commiseration, 
could they only hear the universal cry of horror — Oh^ 
Massh\ they is so hard to please ! " — with which the 
poor creatures invariably recoil from living a single 



154: LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

year with any of these seif-same sympathizers that 
happen to settle among them. " Take you down the 
river to some of them Frenchmeyi or Yankees in New 
Orleans^^ is about the ne plus ultra of threats to an 
idle or vicious servant ; and " thankless as a Southern 
slave to a Northern Abolitionist^''^ as good an illustra- 
tion of ingratitude as any mortal, aic fait to slavery as 
it is, would ever need: for while the master regards 
said Abolitionist as a sort of rabid animal, whom it is 
perfectly right and necessary to hunt down, the slave 
unquestionably despises hiin^ from the very bottom of 
his soul, as neither more nor less than one of those 
wretched Pariahs so immeasurably inferior to all " 'spect- 
able colored ladies and gemmen," that there is almost 
contamination in the very name ! But you should hear 
a negro say, ^^ Poor white folks ! ^^ if you want to know 
how completely the vocabulary opprobrious, the air con- 
tumelious, and the intendment infamous, can be ex- 
hausted in a single breath. 

Yet, after all, the fact still vQ-m^m^— families are 
separated^ and sometimes, perhaps, (though very rarely, 
I believe), capriciously ; and could this result be traced 
primarily or exclusively to slavery, it would of itself be 
an unanswerable argument against the institution. But 
if this is to be abolished in mercy to "the poor, injured 
African," what, or who, is to stand between him and 
that stern master of the free, " the unspiritual god, Cir- 
cumstance ; " and what is to be done with his minion, 
Common Law: for who has not seen the household of 
the Caucasian scattered, like leaves before the autumn 
blast, at the very shadow of his coming ? 

These and the like considerations prove, most conclu- 
sively to me, that Abolition is not a question of religion 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 165 

or morality, or humanity even ! What is it, then ? 
Simply a political hobby. And now, according to my 
own showing, I am about to give irrefragable evidence 
that Celibacy has marked me for her own ! "Well, so it 
is; but let that pass. "A w^oman meddling with poli- 
tics is like a one-eyed dog in a meat-shop," says some 
elegant writer ; but not having his fear before my eyes, 
I shall venture — consoling myself, meantime, with a re- 
flection w^hich, it seems, never occurred to him, namely, 
that a dog with no eyes has still tico senses by which to 
distinguish fresh meat from stale. 

To satisfy yourself that my position is correct, mark 
the persevering, uniform effort to bring this same anti- 
slavery question to bear upon elections, and the use 
made of it in the Congressional halls of the country. 
Did you never see the mother of an unruly urchin keep 
a venerable birch suspended over her mantle-piece, to 
be hinted at, specially referred to, and even taken down 
and brandished about the ears of the refractory subject, 
as occasion might require ? Well, just such another rod 
of correction is this slave question in the hands of a 
politician. No sooner is an obnoxious measure in dan- 
ger of being carried, than up starts some one with 
^^ slave representation ;''"' another chimes in '^ eq^ical 
rights;^'' a third follows up the cry with "jurisdiction 
OF THE GENERAL GOVERNMENT ; " and Mr. Adams shall 
''^ ask leave to present a petition^"' and Mr. Yan Buren 
have his " doiibts^^ till the house is distracted, the mem- 
bers in a frenzy, and the original subject, for the time 
being, a forgotten dream to all but the makers of the 
uproar. And this is legislation 1 

By-the-by, has your father forgiven the last-named 
gentleman his success, in consideration of his " doubts 



156 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

respecting the District of Columbia ? " Aye, he doubts^ 
does he? So do not I, that, let him flourish the old 
birch as much as he will, the time to use it will never 
come in his day, if he can prevent it. He has no ambi- 
tion to "damn himself to everlasting fame" as the dis- 
memberer of the Union : in the very characteristics of 
the man the country has the best of all possible as- 
surances that the emergency is not yet. Should it ever 
come at all, he knows very well there is no alternative 
but war — ^'' war to the Jcnife^^ — yes, to the hilt! He 
knows the South will 7ieve7' succumb to this foreign 
domination ; that it cannot — it ought not. He knows 
every son of the soil would pour out his life-blood like 
water, and repel such an aggression on his rights to the 
last gasp of existence ! And there is not a demagogue 
of the North who talks, " like a sick man in his dreams," 
of " coercing the South into measures," but knows, too, 
in his inmost soul, that he " would cavil with the devil 
for the ninth part of a hair," were he similarly situated. 
Daughter of America! what dost thou here in this 
field of unhallowed strife ? Is it to stand, like the Sa- 
bine wife, between your country and destruction ; or, 
like the Scripture's madman, " to scatter around fire- 
brands, arrows and death ! " Beware ! The fiery mass 
of human passion, once ignited, will bury in undistin- 
guished ruin all that is " lovely and of good report" in 
public character, all that is estimable and dear in pri- 
vate life, and leave their burning ashes on the soul! 
And shall woman's breath fan the flame of civil dis- 
cord, and woman's hand whet the dagger that is to 
drink the warm blood of a brother ? Forbid it, genius 

OF MY COUNTRY ! 

Do not do me the injustice to suppose I have forgotten 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 157 

for a moment that I was once a child of the l^orth. No, 



JSTew York contains the ashes of my father, to me it is 
consecrated ground. It was the birthplace of my brother, 
and every spot whereon he trod is JloIij^ and I love it 
as those only can who have little else to cling to but 
their country. Her lofty highlands and lowly glens, her 
mighty lakes and noble rivers, and rushing cataracts, 
have all their place in my affections. I am proud of 
her noble motto Excelsior, of her unrivaled civil, re- 
ligious, and literary institutions ; above all, I love her 
for her good old aristocracy — pillars on which the vast 
fabric of social rights must rest. But while I thus look 
to her with exultation and pride, it is with indignation 
and shame I behold the moral scavengers of the old 
world, pouring wave after wave of human corruption 
through all the portals of that fair edifice, till every 
avenue is filled to the gorge with the foul pollution. 
It is as if the Temple of Cloacis had crushed the Par- 
thenon ! 

New York suffers for a fault not her own ; she has 
been cheated of her identity by an impudent impostor, 
who goes swaggering up and down in her cast-clothes, 
and caricatures her to her face. But shall the country, 
by its naturalization law^s, connive at this innovation on 
her domestic quiet, and then complain that her family 
is not well regulated, and that she herself "plays most 
fantastic tricks before high heaven ? " It is a wonder she 
has not gone frantic before now; but the day is not far 
distant, I hope, when her majestic voice shall be heard, 
hushing into silence the babbling crew, who have so long 
usurped her honors and dishonored her name, at once and 
forever. 

The above, my dear C, is written exclusively for your 



168 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

benefit, not to enable anything or anybody that ever 
chanced to meet me in the streets, to talk herself into a 
blue-stocking oracle pro tem.^ on the strength of having 
"seen a letter from an acqiiaintance at the South." 
You know who will translate for you, and he and one 
or two others are welcome to the perusal if their courage 
does not fail them "upon sight;" but no more. I have 
contemned the majesty of mob, and set at naught the 
dignity of canaille^ and even were it not so, I am not 
conceited enough to expect my opinion to have any 
Weight with abolitionists, who are well known to be ex 
officio^ as impervious to argument as India-rubber to 
water. So as no good can come of the exposal, if this 
is circulated as my Letters from Virginia were, it will be 
without my consent; "I would rather print before I 
publish," as a certain clergyman used to say of his ser- 
mons. 

Adieu ma chere Gousine. 

L. 

REMINISCENCE. 

"He who sits above 
In his calm gloiy, will forgive the love 
His creatures bear each other, even though blent 
With a vain worship; for its close is dim 
Even in tears, which lead the wrong soul back to him." 

We were but Two. Early unkindness drew 
Its line of hated demarcation round 
Our childhood's hearth, shutting us coldly out 
From kindred sympathies. We were but Two; 
Each was to each the other's world — for us 
There was no other. He whose sunny smile, 
Illumed life's early dawn, might never more 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 159 

Dispense that cheering light to guide ns through 
Its wanderings ! And she, who should have held 
Unto the parched and fevered lip, the cup 
Of living waters, pure from the fount 
Of woman's holy love — why she, aye she 
Had given e'en thee, thou sinless one, 
To Death's embrace, ''''most cheerfully^ so it 
Had pleased God ! " 

There was another then. 
To walk with me life's "peopled desert!" 
Such destiny I knew was mine. Full oft 
I had been warned by sneering lip, and eye 
Flashing in anger and in scorn ; and by 
A thrilling tenderness of look and tone, 
Whose melancholy sweetness haunts me yet, 
That /was born for this. I knew it well, 
E'en in that hour of tearless agony. 
When first returning reason vainly strove 
To put away the fearful consciousness. 
Of what mistaken kindness had concealed. 

It was not well ; they should have told me / 

Was fatherless ! That the radiant eye. 

Which ever turned with mellowed light to mine, 

Had closed on earth to ope in heaven. 

They should have told me that the smile so like 

To moonlight upon mist, or as the rays 

Of setting sunbeams on a ruined fane. 

Holy, and bright, and glorious, yet sad. 

Was now a gem for memory's casket 

Only ! They should have told all this, ere 1 

Was strong to suffer and endure ; and then, 

Perhaps, I had not vainly yearned to feel 



160 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

The cold, damp grave-clods, pressing heavy down 
Upon my throbbing heart, so they would lay 
Me by his side — e'en in the grave to seek 
Companionship denied on earth. But Death, 
(Grown dainty,) battens not on refuse food ; 
And therefore the unloved lived on — the dead 
Mocking the living — a bed of lava 
In its own crater frozen ! Such I knew 
Must be my life's brief history, not thine. 
Oh not for thee, thou young and guileless one, 
Were dark forebodings of untimely blight, 
And early death! I had not dreamed of this 
For thee. 

Oh it is little, that the brief 
Vain struggle with despair, should shed the frosts 
Of age upon the brow of youth, pouring 
Contempt on manhood's j)ride ; but it is much. 
When stern oppression flings his ruthless grasp 
Upon the slumb'ring passions of a child, 
Scarce conscious of their name, and gifts them with 
A giant strength to war with fate! Then girds 
The mail of conflict on thy shrinking heart, 
Oh woman ! saying to such as thee. 
Go forth , and match with power, and cope with guile, 
And battle to the death in passion's warfare! 
Woe for thy budding hopes and young afiections ! 
They are ever first and noblest victims 
In the strife. And woman's gentle nature. 
Her happy, trusting sjpirit. they, oh tluy^ 
Are traitors and must die the death. 

I do 
Remember me of such an hour; madly 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 161 

Through all the depths of outraged nature, 

Its very elements were nerved for strife, 

And from the mingled voice of agony, 

And love, and pride, there came a vow not heard 

On earth, but known in heaven, ever to guard 

And shield thee with the might of strong affection, 

So that no burning blight should lay its seal 

Of withering on thy youthful heart, bowing 

Its lofty aspirations down. 

Then, too, 
There came the stern resolve ; no Christian grace, 
Kor woman-weakness, nor love of God, nor man, 
Nor hope in life, nor fear of death, should win 
Me from my haughty purpose, ere I saw 
That spurner of the infant boy, bowed low 
Before the honored man, and scorn for scorn 
Returned the saintly scorner ! And well 
That vow was kept, till Death, the officious 
And unwelcome, interposed to cancel all. 

She, whose joy it was to make the fountains 
Of young life o'erflow in bitterness, he, 
Whose pride had been to cast the healing salt 
Into the troubled tide — Death, death, these 
Are thy chosen ! 

Wherefore, oh God, so sternly 
Hast thou tried thy creature? I could forego 
The paltry triumph over pride abased, 
I might have spared the winner from the race 
Before the goal was won ; but not, oh not 
From out my inmost soul thy priceless love, 
My more than brother! I was believing 



162 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Hoping, trusting all for thee ; but dreaming 
Never once, that Death's stern hand was feeling 
For thy heart-strings, and mine not yet grown cold. 

Men talh of disappointment, when they mourn 
Some little germ of promise blighted, ere 
The touch of hope's creative hand had formed 
And fashioned it to beauty ! When the tree, 
The stately tree, whose stem was sown in hope 
And nursed in fear, until the heart's best blood 
Would flow like water out to yield its root 
One drop of moisture — when this is stricken down, 
Before the very eyes that looked to it 
For shelter from life's wintry storms, and suns 
Of sultry summer — eyes that had grown dim 
Watching its growth and watering it with tears ; 
Then, then 'tis felt! 

All, all is over now ; 
And that which ivas an adamant, and braved 
The fury of the elements in strife. 
Is now the veriest reed that floats upon 
The tide of time, unknowing w^here to anchor. 
God grant it may be on the "Rock of Ages." 

— , Dec, 1837. 



TO THE LOVED IN HEAVEN. 

Twelve weary years, twelve weary years, 
I've lingered on since thou wert gone ; 

Pygmalion's statue, bathed in tears. 
To mourn the breathing spirit flown. 

And yet I would not have thee back. 
To tread with me life's thorny way ; 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 163 

My heart's best blood is on its track, 
Oh God ! I would I were away ! 

Away from sin, away from strife. 
Away from doubt, away from fear, 

Away from all that makes this life 
A stifled sigh, a falling tear. 

I would not have thee back to grieve, 
O'er blighted hope and baffled fame ; 

I would not have thy heart to weave. 
Of burning thought, its pall of flame. 

But I would blend thy dust with mine. 
When in the grave I rest my head ; 

Earth has no love for me like thine, 
I would I too were with the dead. 

Laudex-dale, Tenn., June IQth, 1848. 



FOURTH OF JULY ADDRESS TO THE SONS OF TEMPERANCE. 

Prepared for a young lady to deliver^ with Bible and 

Banner to a newly organized Division. 

(inserted by request.) 

Rev. Sir and Worthy Brother : 

As the honored agent of your humble auxiliaries, al- 
low me to express to yourselves and the Sons of Tem- 
perance in this town and vicinity, their high estimate 
of your incalculable services in a field where the immor- 
tal seeds of Faith, and Hope, and Love are sown in time, 
to blossom and expand for all eternity ! 

But while millions are congregated to celebrate this 
anniversary of a nation's birth, let us remember, that 



164 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

there are more potent enemies of human weal than for- 
eign domination or political vassalage ; and not forget 
in the peans due to the past the untiring vigilance de- 
manded for the future. The edicts of civil despotism 
may reach life and property, its chains chafe and gall 
the athletic form and sinewy limb ; but what are they to 
the ''iron gyves " that eat into the soul^ the fierce sirocco 
that scorches and withers up the brain, the cold palsy 
that paral^^zes the will, the fell grasp that crushes out 
the very life of life from every phase of existence ? The 
regal or military despot may sometimes require a vic- 
tim ; war here and there claim his holocaust. ''''But 
who slew all these f " All these, whose bones bleach 
and moulder from the shores of the Atlantic to the 
strand of the Pacific i 

Who reduced that strong man to the helplessness of 
infancy — who sent that venerable father, that soul- 
stricken mother, transfixed on many a spear from the 
broken stafi* of their old age, down mourning to the 
grave? Who betrayed those silver hairs to the dust, 
and soiled the glory of their crown with the mire of the 
street? Who bathed the face of that proud boy in 
scalding tears for a father's shame, and sent that promis- 
ing young man to the scaffold, that stalwart form to the 
felon's cell? Who dragged that minister of the Most 
High God from the very "horns of the altar," to wal- 
low in the filth of his own degradation? Who planted 
that moral Upas to distil its deadly miasma over all who 
repose in its shade, till the very breath of heaven — 
"God's blessing breathed upon a fainting earth" — is 
redolent and reeking with the foul effluvia of the bot- 
tomless pit? Who wrested that last crust from the 
famishing daughter of affluence, and foi'ced her to the 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 165 

gate of the alms-house, or the grave of the suicide? 
Who launched that young girl — despair at her heart, a 
father's curse ringing in her ears, and a father's dis- 
honor clinging to her name — into that vortex where 
health, and innocence, and peace, and all are lost? Who 
forced that frantic v^oman to fly from the husband of 
her youth, and chained that living, breathing, sentient 
being to the foul and loathsome carcass of a soulless, 
senseless brute ? Who baptized that child in its mother's 
gore, and laid the wretched parent in a bloody grave 
by a husband's hand? Who turned that other home 
into a pandemonium, whose frenzied inmates would 
gladly choose ''strangling and death rather than life?" 
Who transformed that once gentle, loving wife into an 
incarnate fiend — who made her a foul plague-spot in crea- 
tion, a burning stigma on her sex and race, over which 
angels well might weep ? At whose bidding does " Love " 
thus "laugh at faith," man's honor and woman's peace, 
all promise of distinction, all sense of security, all dream 
of happiness here and hereafter, flit away like the shadow 
of a shade? who is it that thus chases reason, and 
penitence, and pardon, and hope, and faith, from the 
couch of the dying, while the poor conscionce-stricken 
maniac is already raving in the agonies of the "second 
death?" 

Ah, they vanish, "like the baseless fabric of a vision," 
before the breath of that "pestilence that walketh in 
darkness and wasteth at noonday," and the iron nerve, 
and herculean frame, and giant intellect, bow down al- 
most vnthoiit a struggle: and the "worm of the still" 
winds coil after coil of his serpentine fold around the 
unresisting victim, till thought, and life, and all, are 
strangled in his deadly embrace! And is there no 
14 



166 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

hand outstretched to save — no bulwark for defense — 710 
shout "to THE RESCUE?" Oh, yes ! they are coming — • 
aye coming — from every valley and hill-top in our land, 
weak and impotent it may be in their own individual 
strength, but mighty as the overwhelming avalanche in 
the resistless momentum of concentrated power; and 
thank God, there is hope at last, that the progress of 
King Alcohol may yet be stayed ! 

It is because the noble "Sons," whom you this day 
represent, have enrolled their names in this band of 
moral heroes, that we, your few and feeble allies, would 
give to our admiration and gratitude a more enduring 
expression, than the trembling sounds which now vibrate 
on the air, in their passage to oblivion. And, therefore, 
we turn with one accord, not to diamond or opal, but to 
that "pearl of exceeding price, whose beauty shall not 
decay," for it concentrates and refracts the rays of Di- 
vinity, to irradiate the wide circle of humauity. 

To you. Reverend Sir, the professed expositor of this 
Sacred Yolume, I need not expatiate on its noble simpli- 
city and touching pathos, its unrivaled beauty and match- 
less sublimity, its lofty morality, practical precepts, and 
ultimate bearing on man's character and destiny. Com- 
pared with its luminous and simple ethics, how dark and 
complicate appear the most lucid dogmas of the ablest hu- 
man casuist. As a science nothing can be more abstruse — 
as a rule of practice nothing more clear and concise. It 
bears the impress of Divinity — man did not make, he 
cannot destroy — and when a God condescends to teach, 
should not all nature di'aw near, with humble reverence, 
and listen ? From his " golden rule," we learn " to raise 
up the bowed down," to "bind up the broken in heart 
and bruised in spirit," to sustain the weak, defend the 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 167 

defenseless, keclaim the erring, and ''^prevent the foot 
that is ready to slide.''^ But what avails it to under- 
stand the injunction unless we reduce it to practice? 
"If ye know these things," says our blessed Saviour, 
"happy are ye if ye do them." 

The voice of all nature proclaims to man — " This, 
this is not thy rest ; ''^passing aivay " is written on all 
that life or earth contains ; yet how many choose to 
merge the nobler in the baser instincts of their nature, 
and turn their backs upon their Maker and the Most- 
High God, their Redeemer! Alas! alas! that man, 
" the worm, the god," should so prefer the reptile to the 
Divinity of his nature, forgetting alike his high origin 
and immortal destiny ! But it is even so : and here, 
then, is ample room for us to approve ourselves sons 
and daughters of God as well as of Temperance ; for 
here is a field wide as the area of humanity — labor mo- 
mentous as the interests of eternity. 

Let the infidel scofi*, and the orthodox opposer range 
himself in open hostility to all benevolent association ; 
let the lukewarm friend virtually throw Ms influence 
into the adverse scale ; but v:e must not falter ! We 
have put our hands to the work ; " and our earnest 
raust not slacken into play ! " We have joined our- 
selves to the battle ; and he that would turn back from 
the fury of the onset, "^5 as when a standard-bearer 
fainteth ! " For us — for you particularly, young man — 
there is no looking hack ! The lip that predicts your 
failure, the voice that would lure you from your post, 
would be first and foremost to sneer at your weakness 
and deride your desertion. The very eye that now 
smiles in seeming contempt or indifl'erence on your 
organization, might, perhaps, mourn in secrecy and 



168 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

tears over its dissolution ! Go on, then — in the name 
of all that is sacred to man, all that is dear to woman, 
GO on! "Scorn not the smallness of daily endeavor; 
let the great meaning ennoble it ever! " 

Take, then, this priceless legacy to a ruined world — 
this chart, drawn by the finger of Omnipotence, to guide 
man, by Calvary's Cross, to the throne of the Most 
High. Bind it to your bosoms, till the spirit of its pre- 
cepts has passed into your hearts and lives again in 
your lives ! 

Take, too, this fair banner; turn your eye to its silken 
sheen: let Fidelity be your crest; Love and Pqrity 
your " sword and shield ; " Faith your talisman ; Hope 
your watchword ; ''''upward and omaard^^ jouv career. 
Faint not, falter not, till man recognizes man as his 
brother, and stands up once more in the image of his 
Maker — •"regenerated, redeemed, disenthralled!" 

" Men of thought, be up and stirring, 
I^'ight and day; 
Sow the seed — withdraw the curtain — 

Clear the way I 
Men of action, aid and cheer them 
As ye may. 

" Once the welcome light has broken, 

"Who shall say 
What the unimagined glories 

Of the day ? 
"What the evil that shall perish 

In its ray ? 
Men of thought and men of action, 

Clear the way ! " 

Fling your proud colors to the breeze ! — and now, in 
the name of the God of Battles, go forth, " conquering 
and to conquer! " "IS'ot for the brightness of a mortal 
wreath" — not for the idle bravnras, the empty applause 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES, 169 

of a transitory crowd — O no! they would be insult and 
mockery in an hour like this — but for the sublime as- 
surance that " He which converteth a sinner from the 
error of his ways shall save a soul from death." " They 
that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firma- 
ment ; and they who turn many to righteousness, as the 
stars, forever and ever ! " L. 



MIDNIGHT MUSINGS. 

My fate is dark — my spirit high ; 

No voice of love thrills on my ear ; 
No smile of hope relumes my eye : 

My soul is sad — my heart is sere. 

Friend after friend, I've seen them die, 
Ovfelt them change : dream after dream, 

I've watched their flight, all wild and high — 
Their fall, in cold oblivion's stream. 

And Fancy folds her weary wings. 
And Genius checks his eagle flight ; 

A haunting gleam of shapeless things 
Is all of Thought's once gorgeous light. 

What is my love ? A worthless boon 
Back on the giver coldly thrust. 

What is my life ? A hollow moan. 
My requiem ? "Dust to dust ! " 

What have we left, my soul, to seek? 

The smile of love, the voice of praise, 
When beauty wanes, is cold and mute 

As are thy lute's forgotten lays. 



170 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

What have we left I O nought on earth: 
The minstrel-eye, whose radiance flung 

A glory o'er the inner life, 

" Eye hath not seen," nor poet sung : 

The minstrel-voice, whose echo stirred 
Within my heart a dream of song; 

Earth hath not seen, time hath not heard 
A strain so wild, so sweet, so long : 

The spirit-wing, whose dazzling flight 

Spanned earth and heaven, and skies and seas, 

The spirit-crown, whose magic light 
Flung glory on the passing breeze: 

The spirit's might, that high o'er all 

In regal splendor bore its sway ; 
The spirit's love, that knew no pall — 

O God! that these should pass away! 

The rest, the rest ! not theirs to cry 
The craven note, we fail! we fail? 

A broken plume, a shrouded eye, 
A trampled leaf — these tell the tale. 

"Soiled with the dust of men," that wing, 
That angel wing in darkness lies : 

A naked thorn, a nameless grief. 
Is all of Genius' cherished prize. 

Alas ! thou wing, thou weary wing, 
Thou crown of glory and of pride, 

Earth may not heed, poor fainting thing, 
The life-drop ebbing from thy side. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 171 

Earth may not know from what a height 
That bird of song was stricken clown ; 

Earth may not know the gems thou'st lost 
Bright Genius, from thy starry crown. 

Alas, for thee, thou weary wing ! 

The coil is round thee all too fast ; 
Too close to earth thy pinions cling ; 

A trance-like death hath o'er thee past ! 

O wing, O angel wing, arise, 

And plume thee for a prouder flight ! 

In vain, in vain — 'the filmy eyes 
Are closing in eternal night. 

"Woe for thee, wing, O wayworn wing, 

Gone is thy splendor and thy pride; 
God help thee now, forsaken thing, 

Not thus, not thus thou shouldst have died ! 

God of all life ! to thee we bring 

The ashes from a funeral pyre ! 

****** 
"God of all life! to thee I string 

The chords of my neglected lyre! " 

The rushing of that spirit-wing, 

How sweeps it now heaven's arch along, 

Its clarion note all high and clear — 
" Salvation" is my loftiest song! 

Life, joy, and hope, and all in all, 

My Savior, God, in thee I find ; 
Back to the earth I cast its thrall — 

Ye may not stay the chainless mind. 



^72 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Hinder me not, frail child of day, 
My course is high, my pinion fleet — 

Hinder me not ! Away, away, 
I'll lay my song at Jesus' feet ! " 

Arh, Dec. 31, 1849. 



FRAGMENT. 

" Love ! thy altar is on high, 
Though burns its flame within the heart." 

SUTERMEISTEB. 

It is ! it is ! The voiceless grave 
Gives back the yearning soul no sound or. tone : 
Earth's harps have no deep melody that thrills 
Through the lone chambers of the haunted heart, 
The song that heralds bliss immortal ! 
Thy home, O Love ! must he in heaven ! L. 



"FAIL!'' FAIL! -IT DARE NOT THINK TO FAIL 

Rejply to the exclamation^ ^''Ifs a wonder your eye 
doesn't fail^ with such had health and little careP'^ 

" Fail ! " fail ! It dare not think to fail- 
Minerva stalking by its side. 
And Pleasure sighing o'er the vale 
For fairer hours to her denied. 

'-'- Fail ! " fail — ambition at the heart, 
Burning its liquid orb to coal ; 
While Health and ease still stand apart, 
"With wistful eye on far-off goal ! 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 173 

" Fail ! " fail — when golden Hope hath poured 
Her molten splendors on its hall, 
And wary Time hath grasped the hoard 
To hide it 'neath his fun'ral pall ! 

' Fail ! " fail — Jioio could it fail, when Life 

Transfixed each glance upon a thorn, 
And sneering Envy marked the strife 
Fate waged with Pride, the better born ? 

Why should it fail ? Despair hath froze 

Its glacier light forever there. 
And Passion's Etna wildly throws 

Its lurid light upon the air. 

I've welded it in passion's heat ; 

I've cooled it with indifference's frost ; 
I've laved it oft in feeling's tide: 

Why should its splendor now be lost ? 



(,<. 



Fail ! " fail ! They rest who " faH ; " 
But it still struggles with the wave ; 

It dare not reef its elfish sail. 
It may not rest but in the grave ! 

Be Soto, March, 1850. 
15 



174 LKTTEES AND MISCELLANIES. 

LETTER XV. 

ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY, 
Killed hy the accidental explosion of a rocket, 

TO MISS F. F. F. 

S , La., Aug., 1850. 

My Respected Friend: 

Though I know how hard it is to meet the cold hand of a 
stranger in place of the dear, familiar trace we love, still 
hope to be excused for assuming an office which nei- 
ther Mrs. L. nor her daughter are at present able to fill. 
Both have been ill since their partial recovery from the 
terrible shock of their recent and sore affliction : the 
former dangerously so, from an attack of inflammatory 
rheumatism. She is now convalescent, but too enfee- 
bled in health and depressed in spirit to assume the 
correspondence of her deceased daughter, in addition 
to the numerous and arduous duties which she dis- 
charged so entirely to the satisfaction of all, but the few 
who regretted to see her valuable life worn out in an 
ungenial avocation. You will, therefore, excuse me, if, 
in relating '' every minuticB'^ of the late sad occurrence, 
I repeat some things of which you are already apprised, 
and many which will be painful to hear. 

You ask " why^ if there was but the one wound, was 
her dress so much torn ? " I can only say, that, being 
of a light fabric, it might, very possibly, have been 
done in the fall ; at all events, I know that it was torn 
from her body when all was over. But, save the one 
fatal mark, that fiery messenger most assuredly left no 
trace, except a small contusion on the right side of her 
nose, another near the corner of her mouth, and a slight 



i 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 175 

cicatrice on the neck of a little miss of twelve or thir- 
teen, whose head your departed friend had just bent 
down on her own lap, telling her '^ not to be afraid ! " 
And was it not a beautiful and fitting finale to such a 
life as hers, that her last accents should have been of 
kindness — her last act one of mercy, that, in all human 
probability, spared another from sharing her fate ? 

You have certainly " the last letter," and, so far as 
we know, "the last line," she ever wrote. I spent most 
of the day with her on Saturday ; consequently, she 
must have written in the evening after I left ; and her 
sister recollects to have seen her seal and direct on Mon- 
day morning. She then completed a small piece of 
fancy-work, and spent some little time in arranging a 
private sitting-room and other matters in reference to 
the expected arrival of Mr. P ; but declined enter- 
ing on any more material occupation of her own, in 
order to devote the week to the assistance of a young 
friend in her bridal preparations. 

After this, she held with her beloved pastor a long 
and highly satisfactory conversation on the subject of 
experimental religion, and cheered his desponding heart 
by saying how peculiarly and singularly appropriate to 
her own feelings were certain portions of a service, over 
the apparent inutility of which he was mourning. In 
the evening, and for the first time in several weeks, she 
went out to make calls, accompanied by some young 
married ladies, whom, in her own quiet, unobtrusive 
manner, she incited to faith and good works ; continued 
more than ordinarily well and cheerful throughout the 
day, and while at supper, concluded ''to go," as usual, 
" on ''Nette's account^'^ to the pyrotechnic exhibition, 
held a few squares distant. She was attended by her 



176 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

esteemed friend, Dr. M r, a young gentleman whose 

amiable character and deep sympathy have since en- 
deared him more than ever to her afflicted relatives ; 
and left in what were for her " unusually fine spirits," 
remarking gayly to her companion, ''Let us old folks go 
ahead, and put these children (her sister and a married 
lady still younger,) behind us, where we can take care of 
them;" and w^hen the tramp of approaching footsteps 
was heard an hour or two later, her mother thought the 
whole party were returning " in high glee! " 

Having been sufiering, for some ten or twelve hours 
previous, with a severe chill and fever, I was, of course, 
not present ; but understand that " Miss Celia (for that 
is the name by which we knew and loved her best,) took, 
either from choice or necessity, one of the high back 
seats," at the extreme verge of the inclosure, near the 

family of Mrs. S , mother of the little girl already 

mentioned. You are aware that, maddened by the pain 
of burning pitch, one of the performers unconsciously 
dashed down a handful of ignited matches on a bundle 
of rockets. Two or three slight accidents to persons and 
apparel are said to have occurred during the explosion, 
yet few knew or noticed that this was not intentional, 
consequently no general alarm w^as felt ; not a single 
scream was heard, and no eye followed the course of 
that ill-fated shaft ; no heart dreained of its deadly 
effect — not even the child reclining in her lap knew 
she w^as hurt uTitil she fell. ^^ Somehody go for' xcater^'* 

exclaimed Mrs. S , who was the first to reach her ; 

" she has fainted! " Dr. M r started ofi' in a run, 

but w^as soon recalled. " Come hack^ she is awfully 

hurt!^^ added Mrs. S , who, in attempting to raise 

her from where she had fallen " altogether in a heajp^"* 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 177 

and wipe off, what in the imperfect light was supposed 
to be perspiration, discovered the wooden fragment of a 
rocket, an inch or more in diameter, projecting from her 
right eye and out at the back of her head. Friends and 
physicians gathered round, tlie missile was extracted 
and arrangements made for bearing her home. "Z^er," 
no, not her, for once the crowd w^ere right in their in- 
tuition — it could be called nothing else — for long before 
it was known liow she was injured, or who was the vic- 
tim, no one was heard to inquire, "i^ slie hurt? " — " Will 
she dief^^ but voices in every part of the concourse ex- 
claimed simultsfneously, ^^She is dead!^'' And they 
were right^ they bore nothing away but the shattered 
cask from which the priceless gem had been suddenly 
and fearfully riven, to be set anew in the diadem of our 
God. 

Some twenty minutes later I was roused from my first 
slumber by the appalling annunciation, '•'Miss Celici L. 
is dead!^^ "Dead?" "Yes, she fell trom one of the 
high back seats and broke her neck!" "She is hreath- 
ing yet and raay live some time longer," interposed an 
older and more considerate person. "Thank God, then 
her neck is not broken," was my involuntary response ; 
and oh how earnestly did I pray that she might live — ■ 
only live ! But the hush of death, that brooded over the 
dense crowd that lined all the pavement without being 
able to gain admission, told me at once that there was 
no hope. And when I listened to Ae heart-rending en- 
treaties of the almost frantic mother, " only to be allowed 
to speech once more to her child, and hold her hand in 
hers^ while life should last," I mentally resolved that no 
effort of mine should be spared to gratify her, if it could be 
done with safety to life and reason ; or if that might not 



178 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

be, to put away all physical weakness, all personal feel- 
ing, and stand faithfully there in her place, to interpret 
between the living and the dead. I knew, indeed, from 
the hoarse and unnatural voices around, that mine could 
not be recognized, but hoped, by announcing my name 
and suggesting certain signals, to obtain some answer 
to such questions as I should propose. The first glance 
told me how futile had been the expectation, how fatal 
to the mother would be the answer to her prayer, and I 
turned away, sickened to the very soul, that no accent 
of kindness could evermore reach that ear, that all effort 
was useless, all sympathy idle. • 

It had been found necessary to station a sentinel at 
the door, to secure unimpeded access and egress to her 
father and the E-ev. Mr. E,., and on entering I found a 
woman who was occasionally using a bowl and sponge, 

Mrs. S. and another lady. Dr. M and two or three 

older physicians, gazing, with folded arms and bloodless 
lips, in utter helplessness on the scene before them. 

I knew instinctively that it was useless, yet compelled 
myself to gaze long and earnestly, and even critically, 
on every feature, and line, and motion, where reason, and 
thought, and intellect loere not^ till the eye absolutely 
refused to obey volition. It was not the low gurgling 
sound of the life-blood welling from the swollen and dis- 
torted lip, or the ghastly orifice from which oozed the 
mangled and discolored brain ; nor yet the appalling 
sound of those low unearthly moans, that could so have 
revolted the eye from a form on which it had been wont 
to dwell long and lovingly. No, it was not any nor all 
of these, it was the conviction that it was tnere matter^ 
living, breathing, suffering matter, it is true, yet nothing 
hut matter that lay there wreathing and writhing in the 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 179 

agonies of dissolution. And wild, indeed, must have 
been the fancy that could trace, in those spasmodic 
throes of expiring nature, the voluntary and sentient ex- 
hibition of feeling and consciousness, yet to make assur- 
ance doubly sure, I remarked to one of the more experi- 
enced surgeons and physicians, "There 25 no hope?" 
''''None whatever! " "Can it be possible that she is in 
the least degree conscious?" ^^ Utterly impossible! 
The nerve of sensation was instantly destroyed — she 
has known nothing — could know nothing since ! " And 
yet there are not wanting some, (less conspicuous for 
close personal observation, sound sense, and unwavering 
veracity, than the vulgar ambition of relating what no 
one else has heard,) who would fain persuade Mrs. L. 
that her daughter ^^ was perfectly rational to the last;" 
and, of course, painfully conscious, that no mother's 
hand was there to smooth her dying pillow, no sister's 
voice to soothe her parting spirit. But do not you suf- 
fer any such absurd vagary to disturb you a moment — 
why even little Emily S. knows better. "iT^?, Mrs. L." 
(says she,) '^ that she never spoke^^^ and her mother 
claims to have used something veiy like the expressions 
in question. 

You ask for the funeral next and a description of her 
grave. The cemetery now in use, is a mile or more 
from the central portion of town, and sickness, either of 
ourselves or others, has as yet prevented Mrs. L. and her 
daughter, as well as myself, from visiting the spot. But 
Rev. Mr. R., (her dearest and most intimate friend, who, 

in connection with Dr. M , selected the spot,) tells 

us — "We have put her away in a lovely grove, there to 
await the summons of Him who is "the resurrection 
and the life ! " He delivered, in the parlor of the hotel, 



180 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

not a regular sermon, but a most eloquent and appro- 
priate discourse from EccL, xii, 1st and Ttli inclusive — 
sung by liimself, her favorite, "I would not live al- 
way," and was joined by as many of the congregation 
as were able to assist, in "Life is a span, a fleeting 
hour," a hymn which either was, or was supposed to 
be, the one which had impressed her so peculiarly on 
the preceding Sunday evening. 

Perhaps you would like to know how we prepared her 
body for the grave. At the suggestion of Mr. K., and 
in accordance with the not inappropriate custom which 
marks the distinction between matron and maid, her 
coffin was covered with white satin, but put on perfectly 
plain and neat, just as she would have had it ; her form 
was arrayed, (by her mother's request,) in a simple Swiss 
mull, in which I had once before attired her, to gi'ace the 
wedding festivities of a wealthy and fashionable bride, 
numbered, still more recently than herself, with "the 
pale nations of the dead." Her head was slightly in- 
clined on the pillow, and the winding sheet and muslin 
shade draped so as to conceal as much as possible the 
disfigured side of her face, and over all were scattered a 
few pale flowers, (you know how well she loved them,) 
typical of youth, innocence, hope, and immortality. A 
few pieces of Arbor Yit^e were removed before closing 
down the lid ; they now mark in her book the h^anns 
sung on the occasion, and will be retained in their place, 
by a slip of ribbon left from the decorations of her "nar- 
row house," until the arrival of Mr. P. 

And now my young friend, for are we not friends in 
a common sorrow, let it not grieve you that your beloved 
Cecilia died, comparatively speaking, among strangers ; 
strangers perhaps as incompetent to appreciate her worth 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 181 

as unable to excite a similar appreciation in return. Be- 
lieve me, it is not so! In this lite the "wheat and the 
tares" ever grow together, and here the weeds may pre- 
dominate, and the elements of society be unusually slow 
to recognize their affinities, but she had begun to feel 
that they were amalgamating^ and that there were some, 
even here, whom she would gladly include in her list of 
friends, no matter where her lot might in future be 
cast. And for herself, to you who knew her well, I need 
not say how ready she was, "to spend and be spent" in 
the service of God and man, so somebody would only 
take the eclat oflf her hands. But she could not always 
"do good by stealth," and pass undetected; and the 
deep and solemn stillness which pervaded all our streets 
on that melancholy day, when the stern mandate, " dust 
to diist^ ashes to ashes,^^ was executed in our midst, and 
the frequent and unmistakable manifestations of sympa- 
thy which continue to follow and surround the afflicted 
family, tell how strong was the lien she had made to 
herself, in a few short months, on the respect and af- 
fections of an apparently callous and reckless commu- 
nity. 

Since my arrival, in January last, I have been domes- 
ticated with her for weeks in succession, and it has been 
my happiness to enjoy, notwithstanding the disparity of 
years, (for she was nearly young enough to have been 
my daughter,) as much perhaps of her society and friend- 
ship as was given to any lady of the place ; and never 
before in my whole life have I witnessed such another 
example as hers. Xot the first look, or word, or deed, 
can I now recall, which I could wish to forget, had each 
individual day been her last. Why were we not fore- 
warned ? Why did we dread for her the insidious ap- 



182 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

proacli of consumption ? We did see that " all her duties 
were fulfilled," we should have felt — to quote again 
from her own expression — that her "destiny was accom- 
plished! " 

With the bereaved father, mother, brother, sister, and 
friends, there are many, very many, to sympathize ; but 
with "the widowed, though unwed," there are fewer it 
is to be hoped who can feel in unison. Still there is 
one, at least, among us who knows that "a light and 
joy from this earth have passed, that shall never no 
never return to him again," who feels how lone and 
dreary must be the residue of Ms pilgrimage to that 
land "where lovely things and sweet pass not away." 

Mr. L. will write to him in a few days, and Mrs. L. 
has already set apart for his use every article of her 
daughter's which he may wish to retain. Some others, 
including a lock of soft dark hair, will also be forwarded 
to yourself, unless you can be induced to come on with 
Mr. P. Aside from the personal regard which would 
at all times ensure you a cordial reception, the knowl- 
edge of your warm and long cherished attachment to 
her daughter, will now make you a thrice welcome guest 
on the darkened hearth of the mother. At her request 
I forward you some lines, intended solely for the family 
pale, but truthfulness being their chief if not only merit, 
you will please consider them an evidence of deep re- 
spect and implicit confidence on the part of your un- 
known but sympathizing 

Friend, 

Louise. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 183 

TO CECILIA IN HEAVEN. 

""Whom the Gods love die young." 

No stranger hand sliould sweep the lyre, 

1^0 wreath but friendship's round thee twine, 

No colder heart should e'er aspire, 

To link its thought, or name, with thine. 

The guileless spirit turned to thee. 
The passion-tossed, the tempest-tried ; 

The wand'rer on life's stormy sea. 
In trust, unbaffled, sought thy side. 

For thou, while in the world, wert not 
Of those who loved its changeling form ; 

And blessed art thou, that thy lot 
Is cast, beyond its smile and storm. 

No sorrowing for the loved ones here 

Hung heavy on thy spirit's flight; 
No parting pang, no mortal fear. 

Earth's shadow cast on heavenly light. 

"We know that thou hast passed to lands. 
Fairer than all that wooed thy stay; 
Yet who that treads life's burning sands, 
Exults for streams, far far away ?" 

The parent stem for thee must pine, 
Another mourn life's vision fled ; 
"Earth had no love for him like thine. 
And that, and thou, are with the dead." 



184 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

A voice of wail goes np to heaven, 
Earth's sod is wet with many tears ; 

God stay the stem so sorely riven ! 

God shield the loved of w^oman's years ! 



LETTER XVI. 

TO AN UNFORTUNATE AND MISGUIDED FRIEND, 
Inserted in the vague hope that it may yet reach one^ 
hegiciled into a mesalliance of very doubtful legali- 
ty^ while in, {or near,) the state described by the old 
Scottish phrase, "-4 bee in the bo7inety 

, Louisiana, 1850. 

My Old and Deak Friend : 

It is long, very long, since you and I have had any 
direct intercourse, and much easier to sever than reunite 
the chain of a broken correspondence, where the address 
is so precarious as ours ; but I know you will gladly over- 
look some trilling annoyances, to hear once more the 
accents of kindness and afiection from a friend of your 
youth. 

After repeated inquiries I have at length learned 
where you were at "the last advices," and that you "left 
under circumstances too painful and humiliating for the 
writer to disclose or me to learn;" but recollecting one 
of our later conversations, can readily divine that after 
your cousin Jane's decease, the house of her husband 
became a perfect Pandemonium to you, till wTongs, 
insults, and indignities without name or redress drove 
you at last to desperation. For "desperation," indeed, 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 185 

it is, my dear Aline, for weak, powerless woman to 
rebel, in the smallest iota, against the conventionalities 
established for her perpetual subjugation ; and well is it 
for her, that there is one tribunal still to which she can 
appeal from the injustice of man's dominion, one bar 
where the servant is free from his master, and the op- 
pressor held responsible as well as his victim. 

You, my dear unfortunate friend, were incapable of 
reflecting calmly upon this or any other subject, when, 
in the madness of passion or frenzy of despair, you de- 
scended from your station in life and wedded your fate 
to the Prof, of Animal Magnetism, said to have gained 
^uch.^'' complete mesmeric control over you^'' in a cham- 
ber of sickness which you could not with propriety shun. 
If this were so, you certainly were not a free moral agent, 
and ought not to be held responsible as such, though the 
cold, carping, busy world has no time for such nice dis- 
criminations between the "sinned against" and the sin- 
Dring. But oh, these " sir owls " that sit in the arcana of 
science, and slumber and sneer on the confines of a 
mighty mystery, why, why will they not arouse to inves- 
tigate and define the laws that govern this subtle agency l 
K a half-crazy philosophy has caught the inkling of a 
magnificent truth, and diflused it through a world of 
chimera, it surely is not the part of wisdom to leave it 
there in sole possession of visionaries and charlatans. 

Your companion is, it seems, one of its professed ex- 
ponents, but as I make no inuendo insinuations and 
mean no unprovoked and useless outrage on his feelings, 
or wanton insult to your own, you, at least, must excuse 
my seeming — remember it is only seeming — ^cruelty in 
saying, that I too think it just possible, (under existing 
circumstances,) that you may not be his lawful wife. 



186 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

For give, forgive^ I know how deeply I wound, and would 
to God I conld present these unpalatable truths in a less 
painful light ; but as sure as there are immortal interests 
at stake, I almost hope you are not^ though otherwise, I 
know that not the purity of an angel of light could shield 
you from the imputation of occupying what all men, with 
a scarce repressed sneer, would call '' a not very equivo- 
cal jposition^^ while all women would cry '''• amen^'^ 
though less perhaps from innate conviction than the 
selfish, ignoble instinct of self-preservation. I say all 
women ^ because the few who would dare^ (or care,) to he 
just^ are seldom in a position to make their remon- 
strance felt. 

But when this mental hallucination shall have passed 
away, and this mystic influence have exhausted its 
power, as soon or late it most surely w^ill, and old habits 
of life and modes of thought begin to resume their ac- 
customed sway, then your proud, sensitive spirit will 
chafe '4ike a lion in the toils," and this is one reason 
why I hope you are not bound for life to one, who, 
in the pride of human intellect, has, I am told, taught 
you to deride your Maker, and seofi' at the name of your 
Redeemer. 

Oh Aline! Aline! can this be so? Alas, I fear it 
may; for am not I, too, guilty, most guilty of having, 
in days that are past, fostered your incipient doubts by 
so freely expressing my own. I was older than your- 
self and should have reflected oftener than 1 did, that if 
there were no reality there could be no counterfeit. 
And yet it was never the occasional aberrations insepar- 
able from human weakness, nor even the impious and 
systematic hypocrisy exhibited in "the high places of 
the sanctuary, that made me once doubt what religion 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 187 

was^ half so much as the preposterous and abstruse 
metaphysics, "crammed into my youthful ears against 
the stomach of my sense.-' It is much to be regretted, 
that some zealous modern religionists should labor so 
hard to supersede the Apostolic definition of that reli- 
gion which is ''pure and undefiled before God and the 
Father; " however, you will learn my sentiments on that 
head from the inclosed soliloquy.* True, you may not 
think it either learned, poetic, or wise ; but you and I 
are not wise, Aline, at least 1 am not, and I have no 
present so do not destroy my future. Life has to me 
been a weary warfare; after sufiering and toil there 
must needs be repose, and where else can we moor our 
shattered, tempest-tossed barks more securely than on 
the Eock of Ages? ''^Man must have some belief. ^^ 
says the melancholy but gifted priest of Apis, so 1 say, 
with the dying mother to her noble but misguided son, 
"Charles, Charles! give me hack my faith — give me 
hack my hojpe of heaven ! " 

You too need higher consolation than earth has to 
impart; for I know that you have sufiered — that you 
are wretched ! The delirium, or the torpor of excitement 
cannot last forever; the reaction, with its "after hour 
of gloom," must come, and the bitter pang of self- 
reproach, or distrust^ mingle with the sad, sad tears that 
fall over the blight of your early promise. May God 
and you forgive me for having left you to struggle alone 
against such talents and influence as were combined for 
the subversion of your faith in all moral excellence! 
The atrocious and unnatural villain ! I can scarce say, 
God forgive him; for this is his work — his! He took 

* Piece entitled, "What is Truth." 



188 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

you, a young, sinless child, generous, noble, high-minded 
and pure; and what has he made you now? Whom 
did he, "in the livery of heaven," make his own inti- 
mate friends and associates of one who should have been 
dear unto him as a daughter, but men infamous for their 
conjugal infidelities, and open and avowed infidels, who 
could shamelessly congratulate themselves in her pres- 
ence, that *^ such talents as his would not long submit 
to the FLUMMERY of pretending to believe in Chris- 
tianity ? " Yes he it is — ^none so much as he — who is 
guilty, guilty before God of your moral degradation ! 

Forgive me if I did, or do, either of your parents injus- 
tice even in thought; but I should have advised you to 
confide in your mother, had I not known one woman, 
who would have been a mocking fiend instead of a faith- 
ful friend or judicious counselor on such an occasion, 
and feared that you might know such another. And 
besides, I hoped that a happy and honorable marriage 
would soon extricate you from a position of such pecu- 
liar delicacy and peril, without hazarding the frail ten- 
ure of kindred and domestic peace. But I was wrong, 
all wrong; yet what has the world done for us, that we 
should cling to it so fondly and wish to consider it the 
ultimatum of our existence ? 

. You and I had beauty. Aline, (and you may have it 
still,) but for want of the golden setting it availed us 
not. We had also talent — so at least the world was 
pleased to say — well, that too was useless. It did not 
sufiice to break the chain that bound us to an evil des- 
tiny, worse than useless ; for by enabling us "to see all 
others' faults and feel our own," it eminently unfitted 
us for plodding with becoming zest through the tread- 
mill-pace of our every-day life of weary toil, or more 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 189 

galling dependence, while the "gickness of hope de- 
ferred" wasted away the first freshness of our youth in 
vain yearnings for a freedom and independence that 
might never be ours. But is not this intense, restless 
longing for something higher and better than earth has 
to impart — this daring contumacity which refuses to 
swallow all sorts of paradoxical creeds, without having 
the presumption to thinh of understanding them, "an 
undying evidence that thereis a divinity within us that 
will not be forever 'cabined, cribbed, confined,' or re- 
solved again into the material elements like the frail 
tenement in which it is enshrined ? " Yes, yes, it must 
be so — I feel that I am immortal, that I have an expansive, 
never-dying intellect ; and never, never^ be it said of us, 

" That we were born 
Taller than we might walk beneath the stars. 
And with a spirit, tempered like a god's, ' 

Were sent forth blindfold on a path of light, 
And turned aside, and perished ;" 

for oh, "how poor is the rich gift of genius," if it serve 
only to light us to perdition . 

You do not know how deeply I grieve over whatever 
may have been your errors or your wrongs ; Agnes, too, 
mourns over you as a sister lost — speaks most gratefully 
of your kindness to her in the hour of sickness and sor- 
row — tells of your unwearied devotion to the children 
of your cousin Jane, {she was always good and kind to 
the last, and much more like a relative than her hus- 
band, was she not ? ) and I do hope you may yet meet 
a reward even in this life! If not, "there is a land, I 
name not here, where we may meet again;" and may 
"peace, the peace of God that passeth all understand- 
ing," yet enter into your soul, and keep your heart and 
mind in perfect peace." 
16 



190 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

But I have not done; should a time ever come when 
even you can struggle no longer against the conviction 
that your present connection is one which it is right and 
proper to abandon, it is quite possible that the father, 
who it seems has not interposed for your protection 
hitherto, may then close his doors too, against his err- 
ing and unfortunate child, more especially if he have 
other daughters still under his roof. Excuse me if I 
speak too plainly, I mean not to wound but to heal, and 
what I would sa}'- is this: Should that time find me 
possessed of a home where there was none to overrule my 
will, that home should be your refuge against " the strife 
of evil tongues," if you choose to accept it. But alas ! 
this is a visionary hope, for there is far more prospect of 
my arriving speedily at " the house appointed for all the 
living," than to any other of my own. Teaching is 
so perfectly suicidal to me, that for every year that I 
serve it takes me at least two to recruit ; of course I am 
always sick and always poor. Woio I am hopelessly in- 
valided, and my literary and last resort is all untried 
as yet; but my kindest wishes and fervent prayers are 
yours, and the best counsel and most efficient aid in 
TYiy jpower to hestow^ shall also be at your service when- 
ever you think proper to claim them. If the world 
were more truly virtuous it could better afford to be a 
little less censorious; but should its cold suspicious 
wisdom judge me harshly and unjustly for this, some 
gentle one has already prepared a most beautiful and 
appropriate reply : 

" Think gently of the erring, 
Ye know not of the power, 
With which the dark temptation came 
In some unguarded hour. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 191 

Ye may not know how earnestly 

They struggled, or how well. 
Until the hour of weakness came, 

And sadly thus they fell. 

" Think gently of the erring, 

Oh do not thou forget. 
However darkly stained by sin. 

He is thy brother yet. 
Heir of the self-same heritage, 

Child of the self same God ; 
He hath but stumbled on the path 

Thou hast in weakness trod! 

" Speak gently to the erring. 

For is it not enough 
That innocence and peace are gone, 

"Without thy censure rough? 
It sure must be a weary lot, 

That sin-crushed heart to bear; 
And they who share a happier fate, 

Their chidings well may spare. 

"Speak gently to the erring. 

Thou yet mayst lead them back, 
"With holy words and tones of love. 

From misery's thorny track. 
Forget not thou hast often sinned. 

And sinful yet must be ; 
Deal gently with the erring one. 
As God hath dealt with thee ! " 

It is not well to outrage wantonly or needlessly a 
single prescription of the world — it is very far from well 
to suffer the weak, cowardly fear of its censure to deter 
one from so obvious a duty as the effort to "save a soul 
from death," and to those who think and act differently, 
I would merely say, "let him that thinketh he standeth 
take heed lest he fall ! " 

I expect to leave soon, and my future address is un- 



192 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

certain ; but you can inclose, (for you will write, will 
you not?) to Dr.* * *, of this place, and lie will redirect 
and forward wherever it may he necessary. 

Your sincere and sorrowing friend, 

Louise. 



LINES SUGGESTED BY AN OLD PRINT; 

In which a faded leauty catches unexpectedly the re- 
fiection from a viiiTor^ while looking over jpoetic 
and other menienioes of hy-gone days. 

And can it be this faded brow 

Was once a shrine of beauty rare ? 
That round this sunken cheek, there waved 

Such wealth of "silken chestnut hair," 
That poets vowed "earth had not seen 

A face, or form, more passing fair ;" 
And matrons cried, "that hand, I ween, 

Time may not set his impress there : — " 

And wits averred ' ' the matchless shrine 



Scarce worthy of the gem within 



And the frail mortal deemed "(fm'ne," 

(God knows it w^as a grievous sin.) 
Yet manhood's voice indorsed the line. 

And youth, and age, declared it sooth ; 
And lovers knelt their life to tine 

In worship of "the spirit's truth! " 

The fragile cask is shattered now, 
The living pearl within grown dim; 

Poet and lover ceased to vow — 
In heaven they peal a loftier hymn. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 193 

And I can scan my altered brow, 
Nor mourn its parted, wasted sheen ; 

Ages of bitter mem'ries roll 

Me and its primal light between. 

Kiver, and lake, and Alpine snows 

Hide all of earth my soul could crave ; 
And there, in dreams, ray spirit goes — 

Each spot 'tis hallowed by a grave ! 
And yet their shadow may not blight 

All of earth's lonely, farewell strand ; 
Life is not all a blank, while light 

From heaven illumes its ebbing sand. 

September, 1850. 



LETTER XVII. 

TO A YOUNG LAWYER IN WASHINGTON. 
Treatise on Law^ Morals and Politics. 

Caddo Pa., La., Jan. 1, 1851. 

My Dear — 

I suppose I must not say, my little cousin, though I 
can scarce realize that the urchin whom I left somo 
fifteen years since is now a man, in stature and intellect. 
But what have you been doing, I should like to know, 
more than " elevating the ancient Henry" after the most 
approved fashion for modern youngsters, that your loving 
and judicious sister should invoke the contents of my 
ink-bottle for your unsuspecting head ? Nothing worse, 
I hope, than evincing a stronger predilection for political 



194 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

life than she thinks expedient for you to indulge under 
existing circumstances ; but if I am to be privy counsel, 
and lecturer-general, it is proper I should be advised of 
the precise nature of your peccadilloes, you know. 

And, seriously, dear Clarence, there may be some- 
thing more than woman's caprice under your sister's 
apprehensions ; for, indeed, I scarce know, myself, whe- 
ther to regret or rejoice at your success, out of the im- 
mediate line of your profession. That profession, it is 
fair to presume, was one of your own voluntary choice ; 
it is, at least, an honorable one, despite the "quips and 
quirks, and paper bullets of the brain," launched against 
it from time immemorial: thanks to its mere fungi, or 
parasitic excrescences, whose highest ambition is to "live 
of the law," by torturing the body till they wrest it from 
the soul. May you never forget that the end of the law 
is the administration of justice ; and ever remember 
that no man can ti'uly elevate himself without enno- 
bling, instead of debasing by the leprosy of his own 
meanness, any profession that he calls his own ! 

Law, however, is said to be a jealous mistress, and, 
if so, can hardly be expected to tolerate a rival who will 
inevitably engross much of your attention, and scarce 
find your most untiring devotion at all commensurate 
with her own mighty exactions. I speak of politics, in 
the legitimate and nobler sense, not of the mushroom, 
long-tongued spurise, indigenous to bar-rooms, debating- 
clubs, to\\Ti-meetings, and other institutions for culti- 
vating the gift of the gab, which ought, like sewing 
societies, to be indicted for public nuisances ; though 
even this vapid, shameless brazen-face has often — much 
oftener, no doubt, than the real Simon Pure — proved 
fatal to the prospects of many a " rising young man," 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 195 

whose hopes once pointed to a far different goal. But 
it cannot be this impudent ''Ne'er-do-weel" that has 
ensnared your "youthful fancy: " no, I hope and expect 
better things of you ; and know, too, something of the 
obstacles that repel, of the contretemps which beset each 
avenue to legal distinction, while the youthful aspirant 
is struggling against fearful odds for a place side by 
side with the master-spirits of his order — something 
what it is to run the gauntlet, in a city like yours, 
among those less incumbered, perhaps, than yourself, 
with the independent spirit, morbid sensibility, and in- 
adequate fortunes of an old but impoverished race. 
But it is the first step that costs ; and you, it is said, 
have achieved, much earlier than usual, the reputation 
of being "a very promising young lawyer;" so now, 
if you have only the energy and ability to maintain the 
race, equihus passihus^ the rest will be comparatively 
easy : if you have not. Heaven help you ; for what and 
where are your qualifications for a statesman ? 

And further, your reception and subsequent success 
at the bar may have been flattering ; but your position 
can hardly be so assured as yet that you could hope to 
resume it some time in the indefinite future, without 
going all over the same or a worse ground — and that 
you would hardly fancy — should experience demonstrate 
your own unfitness for a high political career. But the 
misfortune of it is, so few ever do discover their own 
unfitness, though it may be palpable as day to others ; 
for the thick veil of self-delusion obstructs the percep- 
tion, and the "iron gyves" of habit bind them so fast 
to an accustomed sphere, that they linger on, on^ in the 
protracted agonies of hope deferred, till they sink at 
last — with tempers and feelings soured and imbittered 



196 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

by the secret goadings of a restless and insatiate ambi- 
tion, and the galling consciousness of unappreciated, 
because misapplied, talent — into the sniveling, sneer- 
ing, querulous misanthrope, or more despisable hack 
of " the little great," whom neither " gods nor men 
endure! " 

I speak feelingly of the despotism of habit, for has it 
not bound me, for years, to a calling from which I recoil 
with an aversion no tongue can describe, hy the simple 
process of making it all but impossible for those who 
might otherwise have broken my chain, to think of me, 
or for me, except in connection with that avocation % 
And you know, I suppose, why the paralytic of old be- 
held, when the waters were troubled, others stepping 
down before him. May I not, then, with reason, depre- 
cate the possibility of seeing those fatal though impal- 
pable links slowly but surely encircling your whole 
moral nature, while you know so little, and I so well, 
" how hard that chain will press at last ! " And God 
defend and preserve you, and all I hold dear, from ever 
degenerating into that fag-end of all contemptibility, a 
mean, cringing, supple-kneed, time-serving sycophant 
and demagogue ! Thus far, no such venomous dragon's 
tooth has ever yet desecrated the family name by his 
own unmitigated infamy, or infused the gangrene of his 
viperous baseness into the blood of our race ; and 
''Heaven forefend" that any of its future representa- 
tives should ever have cause to blush for so foul a stain 
on the honor of their forefathers ! 

Not that I care, though, very particularly about those 
any longer before than our own immediate progenitors. 
The solemn, conceited prigs ! What right had they to fold 
the mantle of their olden dignity so calmly around them, 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 19T 

and sit quietly down in the selfish enjoyment of hered- 
itary independence, and make no provision for the future ? 
None; so, as for the more remote ancestry, his royal 
and gracious majesty, the First Charles, might have had 
my full and free permission to "compliment" every 
soul of them with the ax ! * This may sound rather 
harsh ; but why should posterity care for those who 
cared never for them, or aught else save their own 
ease, since the very memorable, " never-to-be-forgot- 
ten" (much to be regretted,) " day," when that stalwart 
band of hard-headed, half crazy, self-righteous fanatics, 
poetically styled the "commonwealth of kings," squatted 
themselves down on Plymouth Rock one bitter cold 
morning, with the godly intent of praying and shooting 
Indians just whenever they thought proper % 

Now, had they been men of shallow, common-place 
minds, instead of being what tradition says they were, 
such a course of procedure would not have been so very 
surprising. But you know — or, more likely, you don't 

know — that the late Mr. S (himself a man of no 

mean talents or attainments), used to say of our grand- 
father even, that he never felt himself " so completely 
overawed, and so much like a pigmy in the hands of a 
giant," as when coming in contact with "his intellectual 
powers ; " yet he, I think, never considered himself, or 
was considered, the equal of his father and elder brother. 
But what were he and they, and all the " mute, inglorious 
Hampdens" the world ever saw, good for, I should like 
to know? If he never ^^ said a foolish thing," I am 
sure he never "did a wise one," unless his giving the 

*Vide Sir Robert Walpole : "He deserves the halter (or rnnmng bis 
goose's neck into such a noose ; but, in respect to his noble blood, I 
suppose we must compliment him with the axe." 

17 



198 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

five-and -twenty legacies left his country in the shape 
of children and grandchildren — and for which I don't 
see that that same country is at all the wiser, richer, or 
happier, or any way specially bound to be grateful — 
some little chance for good old Milesian blood and 
mother-wit, comes under that category. 

You see I don't exactly mean to insinuate that all 
the intellect has gone out with the black eyes and patri- 
monial acres; nor have I the slightest intention of un- 
derrating your abilities. Of mere talent, 1 dare say 
you have quantum suff.; most of the family have even 
now; but that is a minor consideration. For you may, 
as Clara intimates, be " abundantly able to keep your 
own counsel;" have any reasonable amouat of patri- 
cian nonchalance and hereditary oh^imdiCy— firmness it 
is proper to call it, is it not, when developed in the mas- 
culine form ? — ^your perceptions may be clear and rapid 
as intuition ; your thoughts concentrated and vigorous 
almost to a fault; your mind sufficiently comprehensive 
in its grasp ; and you, to crown the whole, be thor- 
oughly persuaded of your own transcendent merits, and 
yet, and yet want many a sine qua non for a statesman. 

Have you the far-reaching benevolence that feels for 
humanity as its brother ; the lofty magnanimity that 
could nerve you, if need were, to sacrifice not only your 
own, but the interests of your dearest earthly friend, on 
the altar of your country's weal ? Is your frame tem- 
pered of iron, and your spirit " to the happy callosity 
of an oyster ? " If not, depend upon it, you are most 
unfit for the guerilla warfare of political life. You may 
" enmail your soul with high endurance," and bear up 
bravely for awhile, to all external appearance ; but, soon 
or late, the iron will be found to have entered the soul ! 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 199 

Oh, I fear for you, my young cousin ! If you have 
naught but the fragile constitution and highly nervous 
temperament of your paternal line — if, in short, the 
blade be too keen for the scabbard — what boots it that 
you start gloriously on your career — that your sword 
flashes brightest in the onset, and men look on in won- 
der and in fear ? It cannot last^ and, in some inauspi- 
cious hour, the faithless steel will betray its trust, and 
leave you to be borne dowm in the conflict by mere ani- 
mal power, or distanced in the race long ere the goal 
be won ! 

But, supposing you have all mental, and moral and 
physical endowments, in rare and almost unprecedented 
perfection, you may, you must, still want one essential 
element of success ; I mean pecuniary independence. 
How can a man, harassed by the ever recurring ques- 
tion — -"What shall I eat and what shall I drink, and 
wherewithal shall I be clothed" — bring the full scope 
of his mind to bear upon the exposition and adjustment 
of intricate and conflicting claims ? How can he give 
his undivided energies to the solution of a disquisition, 
subtile in form and complicated in bearing ? We are, at 
best, but frail, erring mortals, with human wants, human 
weakness, and human causes of annoyance indissolubly 
intertwined with every fiber of our nature, every rami- 
fication and phase of our existence. And how is it pos- 
sible for a being so situated always to abide, unflinch- 
ingly, by his own conviction of what is just and right, 
when all the world — his political world I mean — cries 
out that he is '"'' rnistalten^''^ that he is "?rr6>7?^;" and 
the very bread, perhaps, of those dearer to him than his 
own life, absolutely depends on his yielding his ^'' prefer- 
ences^^'' at the imperious edict of an overbearing mob- 



200 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

ocracy, ever ready to apply the thumb-screws of official 
torture to the soul ? It is easy for the casuist to lay 
down his inflexible rules, and say it must be thus and 
so ; very easy for the looker-on to hurl invective and 
denunciation at him who swerves, in the smallest iota, 
from Jiis criterion of what is proper and right ; but, de- 
pend upon it, dear Clarence, there are emergencies 
which try men's souls far more than the unequal con- 
test with physical power. 

Do you recollect Goldsmith's half-earnest, half-jesting 
epitaph on the living Burke, whom he declared '' equal 
to all things, yet for all things unfit ; " and is there not 
deep and melancholy significance in the fact that the 
assertion of his having ''narrowed his mind, and to 
party given up w^hat was meant for mankind," follow^s, 
almost as a natural and inevitable sequence, from the 
prior declaration that he was '' too poor for a patriot," 
though "too proud for a wit?" Think of all this; 
think, calmly and dispassionately, before you venture 
on giving the "unspiritual god" such vantage ground 
as may ultimate in the subversion of your moral in- 
tegrity. I cannot fear that a son of your father's train- 
ing should want moral feeling sufficiently high-toned 
and acute, and I would not doubt th^ stability of your 
moral principles ! But yet, with all the wealth of your 
young afiections, all the pride of your early manhood 
and conscious power, you are but the veriest novice, 
after all, in the tortuous, Machiavelian policy of secta- 
rian, sectional and political intrigue and diplomacy. 
And let me remind you, once again, my "high-reach- 
ing" cousin, there are, there must be, many occasions 
in a civic career which require something more than the 
pride of opinion, the abstract conviction of right, or the 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 201 

quiet, stubborn, innate hauteur of all your race, to pre- 
serve one's honor and conscience unsullied and pure! 

Thus far, we have been looking through a microscope 
at the petty affairs of this every-day life : now let us 
take up the telescope, and look, for a moment, beyond 
the stars ! Ali^ the things that are seen are terajporal — ■ 
the things that are unseen are eternal! Here then is 
a subject, icorthy the mortal heir of an immortal des- 
tiny ! And if it be so difficult for the young to turn 
away from the present and bring the far-off future near 
but for one short hour — so ''''very hard^^ for "a rich man 
to enter into the kingdom of God," what must it he for 
bim who has gone on from youth to age, linking him- 
self closer and closer, with each revolving year, to the 
hopes and schemes, the passions and interests of this 
transitory life, till the frosts of many winters settle on 
his brow, and the fading eye, and feeble step, and tot- 
tering form, proclaim, too clearly to be misunderstood, 
that "the places which now know him shall soon know 
him no more forever ? " What must it be, I say, for such 
a one to unwind all the subtile chord of association that 
binds him with its thousand links to old habits of 
life and modes of thought — turn away from earth its 
cares and vicissitudes, its pleasures and honors, and 
seek. 

" 'Mid the green places of the soul, ^ 

For that pure, life-giving tide 
That wells with hope, and love, and truth, 
The fountain of perpetual youth?" 

The last twenty years have, it is true, furnished two 
eminent instances of this high moral effort, but they 
stand on the barren field of political life, almost unpre- 
cedented and alone in their solitary splendor — rich monu- 



202 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES 

merits of the superabouncling grace of God, and lofty 
beacons to warn alike the nndistinguished throng and 
their gifted compeers '4n that stern strife which leads 
to life's high places," that this is not their rest — that 
man has another and a loftier destiny. And well was it 
for the owner of one of those immortal names, ''that 
were not born to die," that the disappointment so gaHing 
to his country's pride, so disastrous to its interests, se- 
cured to him, it may be, in the calm shades of domestic 
retirement, that "more convenient season" that might 
never have been found, had he been encumbered with 
the care of a nation's weal ! And well, indeed, is it, if— 

'Standing on what too long he bore, 

With shoulders bent, and downcast eyes, 
He has discerned — unseen before — 
The path to higher destinies." 

But oh how often, how often, does the recurrence of 
adverse examples admonish us, more eloquently than a 
thousand tongues, to "seek first the kingdom of God and 
his righteousness." 

How is it with you, my inexperienced cousin ? Have 
you given your " human heart to God in its beautiful 
hour of youth ? " If so, let the tempest of life and the 
surges of faction howl and madden around you as they 
will, they cannot unmoor the bark that is anchored se- 
curely on the " Rock of Ages." If not, let me entreat you 
to remember, that "he builds too low who builds beneath 
the skies." For were it indeed possible, that the holy 
hope of the Christian should eventually flit away like 
the dream of a dream, it is still something — oh yes, it is 
much — that the weary in heart and broken in spirit, can 
yet hear a voice crying unto them, "Come unto me all 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 203 

ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you 
rest." Much that the homeless and desolate can still 
be enabled to feel, that in their "Father's house are 
many mansions," and look up from *' life's endless en- 
deavor" to that rest in the skies, in the fullness of un- 
wavering hope and unfaltering trust! 

For myself, the dew has long since vanished from the 
rose, the sparkle from the wave of life ; but not for that 
would I cast the shadow of its evening cloud over the 
brightness of your morning prime. Nor would I put 
you again in leading-strings, or say of any particular 
line of exertion, ^^This is the way^ walk ye in it.''^ Far 
from it ; all 1 wish is, or rather, (what is much more to 
the purpose,) all, 1 presume, that Clara wishes, is, that 
you should weigh yourself v^ell now^ lest you should 
hereafter be w^eighed in the balances of two worlds and 
found ''''wanting!''' 

But let others think as they will, it surely is not for 
me. who knows so well the cost and consequences of 
attempting to chain, and task, and torture the rebel 
will that chafes and struggles to be free, wasting, in vain 
efibrt, the strength that might otherwise have launched 
it gloriously on its own chosen career ; — oh no, it is not 
for me to thwart an inclination so deep-seated and 
strong, that it "parts not quite with parting breath." 
If yours be of that cast — if nothing less will satisfy the 
measure of your life-long yearning — if you do feel the 
calm consciousness of power, the full plenitude of the 
divinity within — if law or aught else has ever been with 
you, but as "a means to an end," then I say go on, and 
woe be to the hand that would voluntarily rise up to 
throw another obstacle in your path, or seek to arrest 
your onward course ! I would not, if I could, interdict 



204 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

a career that had once perhaps been mine had my sex 
been stern as my fate, that had most surely been his, in 
whose "burial urn" I laid my youth "where sunshine 
might not find it." Had he lived his name was not des- 
tined to have been "written on the roll of common 
men ;" and I scarce know — either for Clara's sake or 
your own — whether to hope, or to fear, that his mantle 
has descended upon you : but should aught I have said 
appear to you a little "less than kind," ^AmA: that I have 
said more perhaps than I should, but for the conviction, 
never entirely to be shaken ofi*, that it was my "un- 
reined ambition" seconding his own that stimulated 
him into an early grave. 

But if with you ''Hife is notliing^ youtW'' — the im- 
mortal youth of intellect — "^s alV^ — if indeed you do 
go on, let no secondary rank bound the limit of your 
aim — the highest, the highest^ for you, my proud cou- 
sin, or none! Remember, however, that it is not the 
rank of office, that xdtima tliule of the vulgar mind, to 
which I allude. Oh no ! there are distinctions far no- 
bler and more ennobling than these. Can you tell who 
performed the role of magistracy in Athens, while De- 
mosthenes wielded the destinies of Greece % I fancy not, 
and as little do I care. And whenever I hear "the first 
of living statesmen " lauded for his magnanimity in 
withdrawing his naTne on a certain occasion, I always 
long to correct the phraseology, by saying, for suffering 
it to he used at all in such a connection. 

It is at all times proper to "tread lightly on the ashes 
of the illustrious dead ;" it is peculiarly so now, that the 
late Chief Magistrate has so recently departed alike from 
the arena of martial and political strife ; and few, it is 
to be hoped, are so unhappily warped by passion and 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 205 

prejudice as to withhold the meed of respect and afiec- 
tion, so eminently due to his important services, sterling 
sense, and lofty integrity of purpose. It is also a matter 
of more than party or sectional congratulation, that his 
successor has the moral stamina to stand up Wke a man 
at his post; yet for the mere incumbent of office, as 
such, I have a most ''' {nJinitessi7naP' regSLrd, and conse- 
quently never find it in my heart to yield him more than 
the slightest passing tribute of respect, though I can bow 
down my whole soul at the shrine of that higher no- 
bility, nor feel degraded by its homage. Still I really 
do wish — just for the novelty of the thing — that I actu- 
ally could feel for one half hour as others appear to feel, 
all their lives, in reference to office in the abstract. 
Some noble soul does, to be sure, throw, from time to 
time, the prestige of his own individual greatness around 
the mockery of its hollow forms ; but the halo recedes 
with the setting sun — it will not linger to hallow the 
spot or gild the lack -luster brows of those "accidents of 
an accident" that too often succeed. Yet somehow 
80 it is, that others "see a form I cannot see, and hear 
a voice I cannot hear," for to me there is no " excelsior^'' 
inscribed on the Executive Chair. What is it, and a 
thousand such, with all the paraphernalia and parade of 
factitious dignity, to the priceless birthright of genius — 
the nobility not born of the "most sweet voices" of the 
mob — what, for instance, are all their titles and honors 
to the simple, "world-wide renowned name" of Hen- 
ry Clay? Any "rabble rout" can help to make a 
President. "An honest man's the noblest work of 
God!" 

Had I visited the Capital during his interregnum, it 
is just possible I might have been as much astonished 



206 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

as a certain dry old Tennessee Judge once professed to 
be on hearing the census of Yirginia, ''after having," 
(as he said,) "been so long under the impression" — de- 
rived from a very mediocre F. F. Y. of his acquain- 
tance — "that there vras nohody there but Benjamin 
Wadkins Leigh;" for verily "Washington without its 
presiding genius is a nonentity to me. 

This reminds me to inquire, have you paid your re- 
spects as yet? If not, let me request you to do so on 
the first suitable occasion ; not, indeed, with the mean, 
pitiful servility of a poor, sneaking, political toady, pant- 
ing to catch the skirts of some great man, in whose broad 
wake he hopes to scull his ricketty craft into the snug 
harbor of power and place, but with the cordial unpre- 
tending deference which every sensible, well-behaved 
young gentleman in the land, honestly owes to one who 
has "rode these many summers on a sea of glory" — a 
deference alike honorable to the giver and receiver. 
But you are, I trust, hetter trained than to mistake in- 
solent familiarity for manly independence, or modesty 
for meannesss. True modesty is perfectly compatible 
with a just appreciation of one's-self as well as others; 
and I question if there is not more plausibility than pro- 
fundity in the received ijpse dixit^ "Diffidence of our 
own abilities is a sure indication of wisdom." 

A man of gigantic intellect may, it is true, feel at 
times that it is "no such great things after all," because 
he never knew what it was to have an ordinary one, and 
it may, and no doubt often does, seem very small to him 
in comparison with what he is able to conceive; but if 
so immeasurably superior to those around, it is, to say 
the least, a little remarkable that a mind of strong 
powers and acute perceptions, should fail to perceive 



\ 



LETTERS 'AND MISCELLANIES. 207 

what is obvious to the dullest comprehension. " Can a 
man hold fire in his hand by thinking on the frosty 
Caucasus?" Can he bear about this glittering curse 
of genius, nor feel its circlet of ice — its serpent of fire 
girdling and crushing his heart and stinging his brain 
almost to madness ? Impossible ! He may regret, and 
endeavor to hide, the world — the cold, careless, envious 
or busy world — overlook, mistake, deny, or strive to 
stifle and ignore its existence ; but it is there ! it is 
there! — a glory and a grief, a joy a crown and a 
thorn, a seraph and taunting, mocking fiend; but never, 
never more to depart till life (or reason) and it go 
out together ! So, do not fold your hands, sit down 
and flatter yourself that inertia or imbecility is modesty. 

This recalls an observation made a few months since 
by a lady in De Soto, herself the worthy and highly 
talented daughter of " an old historic line," namely, 
'' that this thing called 'modest merit' was a very pretty 
thing, a most heautiful tMng^ to talk about ; but good 
for no earthly use whatever, except to keep formidable 
competition out of the way of more brazen and less 
gifted aspirants." 

The remark was made expressly for my benefit ; it is 
now repeated for yours ; because, I take it for granted, 
one grand difiSculty with the whole "kith and kin" is, 
that they lack assurance, or some other interpreter, to 
translate them out of themselves. Here am I now, can 
talk — Oh, very brave ! — to a piece of white paper ; and 
yet — with lip curling, quivering and closed, as if " ne'er 
to ope again " — be driven back into myself, by the first 
'* cold, uncomprehending look " or chilling tone, there 
indignantly to deplore " the hard and hapless situation 
of a bard " compelled to find not only the wit but sense 



208 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

to appreciate it; and spurn and scorn, from my inmost 
soul, the inveterate stolidity of that "many-headed 
monster thing" ever ready to worship the rising sun, 
and " pile Pelioii upon Ossa" to keep it below the hori- 
zon as long as it possibly can ! Oh, it's all a mistake : 
these philosophers know nothing at all about the matter; 
cold is not a " negative property ! " — just let them feel 
it once settling down on the heart, as I have done hun- 
dreds of times, and they would soon know better ! But 
all the spirit-vacillations, mind you, and all the incar- 
nate Zeros in the universe, never reach my purpose; 
worlds should not bribe me to relinquish that: I think 
I should die or go mad within a week, if I kneio it to 
be hopeless I 

" True woman^'' I dare say you are thinking, (of 
course, what else should I be?) "' and variable as the 
shade by the light, quivering aspen made ; ' " but, to 
dismiss the single specimen and return to the residue. 
They are — the men I mean — so indomitably proud or 
reserved, or conceited or indolent, or something of the 
sort, that they expect everybody to appreciate them in- 
tuitively, without their ever taking the pains or making 
the condescension to insinuate that they are, as Willis' 
Interrogator expresses it, anybody in particular. Now, 
this will never do. " The wise world laughs at fables ; 
dream no more! " It was not by idle reverie that my 
ideal of a clear-headed statesman and chivalrous gentle- 
man, soared to his present " pride of place! " 

The old Romans decreed the oaken leaf as the most 
fitting award to him who saved the life of the drowning ; 
and has not he, whose pride has ever been 

To cast the healing salt into the bitter waters, 

twice plunged into the maddened vortex of faction ; twice 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 209 

stemmed its tide to rescue his country and constitution 
from destruction ; and twice, aye, thrice, bound his brow 
with a garland far nobler than the wreath of empire ? 
Yes, " and the laurel is earned that binds his brow," 
and I would rather call that man my friend, than be 
crowned " queen of beauty and of song," by half the 
residue of his species! We shall never meet face to 
face in this life, but we shall meet, yes we shall meet, 
in that land where pecuniary disabilities no longer keep 
asunder, wide as the poles, those who might otherwise 
rejoice to know and appreciate each other.* 

You may chance to be a dissentient, if so, do not 
annoy me, I entreat, with any odious old saws about 
gentlemen and their valets, " Distance" and " Enchant- 
ment;" or waste any valuable time attempting to dis- 
pel what you, in your presumption, may esteem the 
veriest illusion. You would fail, I have a presentiment, 
for '' /cannot spare the luxury of believing that some 
things beautiful are^\\2X they seem!" And besides, a 
woman's politics being no manner of consequence, the 
world should tolerate all manner of harmless illusions 
in me ; for without them, what should / know of life 
" but its real misery ?" But mind I don't admit that 
there can, by any possibility, be an illusion in this 
instance — no, he surely is that rare phenomenon — a 
real patriot, an earnest true-hearted statesman, and 
honest, high-minded man! And yet this is mere tauto- 
logy ; for the doctrine that one ma}' be a knave in 

* Well I am not quite a Cassandra yet it seems — any more than 
poverty and sickness are the most delightful of all masters of ceremonies, 
though something should be forgiven to them ; now but thediamond is a 
diamond still, place it in whatever light you will. 

Mem. of Oct. 30th, Louisville, Kj., 1851. 



210 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

public, yet honest in private life, would be shocking 
impiety, if it were not most ridiculous nonsense. Let 
us see — it means I suppose, that it is " very right 
proper," and in fact almost the " bounden duty" of a 
politician, to bamboozle, humbug, and betray as many 
thousands as he can; though it would be exceedingly 
reprehensible, dishonest, and infamous, for him to cheat 
or defraud a single one. Well, I am getting rather 
antiquated, it's true, and losing perhaps, the proper 
signification of the " king's English ;" and may be it 
doesn't take exactly ten hundred to make up a thousand 
now as it used to "in my day:" so it's all right I 
suppose, just upon the principle, that abstracting five 
or ten dollars, is " stealing^'' whereas making off, with 
a few hundred thousand, or half a million, is only a 
splendid defalcation. But isn't that beautiful logic, 
charming ethics? "And ne'er a word a true one;" 
for he who is "God-waixl, a very faithful, upright man, 
but man-ward, a little twistical," has not even the merit 
of being an accomplished hypocrite, much less an 
honest man. He who plunders the public, will rob his 
neighbor and swindle his brother wlien it serves his 
turn. He wlio mystifies and misleads the crowd, 
knowingly and willfully, will falsify with his friend, pre- 
varicate with his wife, deceive his child, and take "a lie 
in his right hand," into the very presence of his Maker. 
Never do you, my dear cousin, take any man to your 
confidence, who advocates this absurd yet mischievous 
sophism, in any conceivable form ; for however else you 
may fail, you owe it to yourself, your God, and your 
name; to keep your honor and conscience intact and 
without shadow of stain ! 

" Oil hone a ree^^ was ever such another incarnate 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 211 

statute of limitations ? Here is scarce room enough for 
" the gist of a lady's letter," to wit, a postscript of 
orthodox dimensions ! Well, it can't be helped, so you 
are reprieved for this time, and I must reserve two 
capital subjects — Idleness and Dissipation; moral, social, 
and literary — for a future essay. In the meantime you 
are to thank Clara for this, and would do well to make 
her read it (and see that it is done secundum artem)^ 
otherwise she might insist on your keeping up the cor- 
respondence. She has probably advised you ere this of 
my dernier resort, and should it meet — as very likely it 
may — with your most cordial disapprobation, don't 
waste rhetoric or ammunition on me, my jlag is nailed to 
the mast, but try and persuade " the world and his 
wife," to adopt the Quaker, or Russian custom, and 
dispense with all superfluous prefixes to proper names. 
For really there is no more absolute necessity of having 
titles to discriminate between Madame the matron, and 
Mademoiselle the " Lay nun," than Monsieur Benedict 
the bachelor, and Monsieur'^ Benedict the married man. 
Indeed I don't see that they are of any use, except as 
safety-valves for vulgar curiosity and impertinence. 
And sure enough some people might get overcharged to 
a dangerous extent, if they couldn't bore every unlucky 
widow, or deserted wife they met, with a regular cate- 
chism about her husband and children, and the reason 
why she didn't marry again ; and then turn round and 
remind some quiet unoffending spinster (like your cousin 

* Do, in mercy to all " ears polite," learn (if you have not done so 
already) to pronounce this word and its plural Messieurs correctly, i. e. 
Mos-yai and Mes-yai, not monster, nor Moo-soo, nor Mon-soon, nor any- 
thing of the sort. If aufait to this matter, you will excuse this flip- 
pancy, if not, here is one lesson gratis. 



212 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

"Mel" for instance) that she is old and ugly, and her 
chance quite hopeless now, by " wondering how it 
haj)pened that such an extraordinary beauty as she 
must have heen^ didn't get married when she was young 
and pretty." Just as if they had any right to make it 
incumbent on a lady, either to retort rudely, " sin her 
poor miserable before breakfast" (or after), by the in- 
vention of all manner of " white lies," or go into a 
history of her whole lifetimt3 for their edification; or as 
if no woman had ever anything else to do but '' fall in 
love" and " get married^'' because men sometimes 
make themselves ridiculous, and spend their time talk- 
ing about her beauty, when they had much better be 
saying their own pra3'^ers. The poor, conceited jacka- 
napes, if they need nothing else, I'm sure most of them 
need pray long and well for sense enough to let the dead 
rest! And they'd be clear enough too, of evoking 
some shades of the past, if they only knew what awk- 
ward, insignificant, ill-favored, unmistakable " clods of 
marl" they looked in comparison. But not they! del 
what atroGite merveilleuse that any living mortal, "guilty 
of being suspected" of having had beauty, shouldn't 
have made it over in hot haste, and with many thanks, 
to the first enterprising Procrustes willing to charge 
himself with its destruction in the shortest possible 
time. It's "c<^ wonder ^'^^ they suffer such culprits to run 
at large instead of arraigning them for lese majeste 
against the whole masculine gender; but exeunt omues 
all ye pestilent pestiferi ! 

And now, if you don't find your vocabulary suffi- 
ciently " aired," just go out and declaim, as long as the 
gag law will let you, to the first drowning man you 
meet, on the folly and utter inutility of grasping at 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 213 

" straws !" Then leave croaking to spectacled wiseacres 
who fancy they know pretty much all that is to be 
known, and can't perhaps tell how many bars there are 
in the grate they have been punching for the last twenty 
years. How extremely sagacious they look, don't they, 
standing high and dry upon shore, discoursing to the 
poor wretch in tlie water, about the fallacy and weak- 
ness of such injudicious efforts ; but between you and 
me, don't you think it would be just as humane to throw 
the poor fellow a rope ? 

Not however, that I expect anything of the sort in 
this instance ; but would merely suggest that you make 
a better investment of oratorical capital, than to bestow 
it upon me: and finally, that you console yourself with 
the reflection, that it isn't your name after all — nor that 
of any one else now extant — that is liable to be staled in 
the mouths of men by such an association. No, no, I 
cannot aflbrd that, while my present position is so pre- 
carious, and there is no alternative but heggary or suc- 
cess in perspective. So the world and " all the rest of 
mankind," must hold me excused if I "keep in the line 
of safe precedents," and manufacture one of my own — 
mine by right of invention, and quite good enough for 
steamboat and newspaper use — or failing to get up any- 
thing sufficiently recherche^ conclude to patronize the 
Phonetics, who once did me the honor to enroll my 
obsolete name — obsolete at least till I can resume it 
without compromising its dignity — in their list of 
celebrities. 

They didn't send me the book to be sure, no more they 

didn't any one else, that ever I could learn ; but there's 

no occasion to remember that you know, and when 

honors are scarce, it is necessary for us, " small fry," 

18 



214 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

to be thankful for a little and make the most of what 
we can get ; so you can mail the first of the series you 
owe me for this, to Xew Orleans, and direct as usual 
until further orders. 

Your ill-starred, but 

Affectionate cousin. 



LETTER XVIII. 



PERSONALITIES AND MATTERS AND THINGS IN GENERAL. 

, La., Jan. 2d, 1851. 

Dear Clara: 

I have at last sealed and dispatched to your brother 
just such another pack and parcel of "lengthened sage 
advices," as a youthful tyro like him might expect from 
a veteran statesman like myself. You know the meas- 
ure of his endurance best; but in newspaper parlance, 
don't you expect to '"'catch afieio^^ for having instigated 
such a proceeding? Perhaps though he may "be mer- 
ciful and spare," if you submit with all due deference to 
the penance of my suggestion; so by way of giving you 
a little preliminary practice, I have just opened a new 
ream, and there's no telling how much of it you may 
have to pay posj;age npon. 

But verily "republics are ungrateful;" here am I 
now, and cannot find that there has ever been the slight- 
est notice taken of my extraordinary efforts to enhance 
the postal income. If Sir Walter Scott was knighted, 
as the story goes, for increasing the revenue on paper, 
why should not an humble individual like myself be 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 215 

pensioned for its consumption, more especially when it 
enures so much to the benefit of the Fifth Department, 
not to mention the mercantile and manufacturing in- 
terests ? 

Tell the counselor that if he really does intend 
speechifying to "Buncombe" in future, he might as 
well begin by calling attention to this subject. It will 
do just as well by way of practice as any other, and be 
quite as sensible as most "able discussions." Though, 
for that matter, I could suggest one or two more, just to 
let the Lieges know that we, their lawful Suzeraines, 
might, perhaps, farnish the William Yitt point dkippid^ 
should they ever get enmeshed head and ears in meta- 
physics, yet fear to ''fall hack onplcmi co^nmon sense,^^ 
from a ver}^ rational apprehension of having to measure 
the entire distance from bathos down a la Eochester.* 

And this, may it please their wisdoms, isn't altogether 
vain-glorious boasting, for we haven't so entirely taken 
leave of our senses yet, that they can palm ofl* on our 
easy faith and "all enduring" good nature, such ultra- 
agi'arianism as they have grafted into the^ laws of the 
land under the specious names of patent and copy- 
right laws, and we never the wiser. The brain is as 
much a part of the human system as the hand, and its 
product a property or it is not a property — its possession 
a right or not a right. K not '^. property ^ then it clearly 
belongs to the originator, for notMng\\.^% been his prop- 
erty for ages; but only to think now of our Brother 
Jonathan, Ae, of all men alive, to w^aste the marketable 



* The "wicked and wiity" once inquired, in the mines of Cornwall, 
"What, your Reverence, naay be the distance from the bottom of that 
shaft to the center of the infernal region?" and Avas told, "It can't be 
far my lord, just let go that rope and you'll be there directly '" 



216 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

commodity of legislation in alienating an impalpable, 
valueless abstraction. Isn't it a little too ridiculous? 
If it is a property there must be 2ifee simple soraev^liere^ 
and if it does not determine j^^r^^ in the producer, then 
all good citizens should rise en masse against the high- 
handed tyranny that allows him to usurp its rights and 
privileges a single hour. It's modest though, to the 
shameless and unblushing favoritism of some radicals, 
who impudently insist " that a man should be allowed the 
use of what he can make for the whole of his own natural 
life ;" and not half so bad as sheltering with their aegis 
an unholy alliance of publishers, paper and spectacle 
makers, if not actually "aiding and abetting" their ne- 
farious designs and sinister practices, lest some heads 
and eyes in these thirty-one independent, conglomerate 
Republics should eventually get strong enough to super- 
vise their own misdoings. They are every one "art 
and part," it's my belief, {^^ our publishers" always ex- 
cepted of course, like every man's doctor and lawyer,) 
though little do I care personally for all their barbarous 
machinations and conspiracies. Thanks be, I can see 
my way pretty well yet, and by moonlight if I choose, 
through all the hocus pocus of the wicked-looking little 
atoms, that I take to be neither more nor less than en- 
chanted souls of missing conspirators, for every one of the 
hard, contracted, leaden-headed impracticabilities looks 
as if it had been in a collapsed stage of the cholera, fed 
on persimmons, lodged in a condenser, and dressed in 
straight-jackets ever since it was born ; but that doesn't 
prove that other people never need glasses long before 
they are able to buy or old enough to wear them, nor 
that it isn't very sad to see the light all go out of "child- 
hood's sunny eye," as the first glance at the long, intri- 



LETTERS A.ND MISCELLANIES. 217 

cate columns, and dim, misty leaves of the new book, 
deciphers nothing half so clearly as a headache in every 
page. 

Aside from starving to death, (verj^ magnanimously,) 
for the benefit, honor and glory of epitaph and monu- 
ment-makers, authors were undoubtedly sent into the 
world to illustrate the old Greek fable of Polyphemus, 
strong and hlind^ and having been caught napping by 
that dirty loafer, the right-royally rascal, Ulysses, half 
deserve to enact Issachar to the end of time ; but were 
the wily rogue disposed, (as it seems he is,) to bore out 
the eyes of all the flock too, nobody would ever dream 
of holding the captive giant at all responsible! So I 
hereby notify all whom it may concern, that when I me-~ 
morialize, or draft a bill for the better protection of the 
potentates and all the young princes, there will be one 
proviso, making it the duty of all health officers, and 
other local authorities, to seize, wherever they may be 
found, and burn, without fear or favor, all such perni- 
cious and contraband wares, as books for adults having 
more than one-twentieth part in as small type as large 
Brevier, and another declaring the use, sale or issue of 
a text-book in anything less than Small Pica, (with 
notes and questions in Long Primer,) constructive as- 
sault and battery on the whole rising generation, and 
punishable by confiscation, fine, and imprisonment. 

Abolishing from henceforth nine-tenths of Brevier and 
all smaller types would unquestionably be much simpler 
and more efficacious ; but there being a certain class of 
deeds, as well as doers, having a natural affinity for the 
clair ohscuro — and not too much of the clair either — it 
would be necessary to reserve them for the accommoda- 
tion of quacks, politicians, legislators, and others who 



218 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

often wish to print what they know isn't fit to be seen. 
They of course will show their gratitude by putting all 
bright eyes and sunny faces, as well as authors' brains, 
in their own pockets, if they can, and there's nothing to 
hinder, that I see, but "eternal vigilance." Were men 
ever known, {out of novels, or in more than one,) to 
yield the "eleven points in law" to one in justice, or 
was there the least chance of the "plaintifi' in error's" 
recovering in the new suit of Sarcenet versus Broad- 
cloth, I should expect, despite Mr. Marcy and his aphor- 
ism, to come in, while "the victors" were all overjoyed 
and out of breath, for a goodly share of the "spoils." 
As it is^ I fear the statute book, poor thing, will never 
be much the better for my ability to string words to- 
gether as long as any Solon of them all ; and what is 
worse that I shall never get the floor to rise selon de 
regie and expose my condition^ just as if the lion didn't 
hnoio there was some pestilent gallinipper, or disgusting 
little insect or other, (too small perhaps for an ordinary- 
microscope,) buzzing, cavorting, and cutting all manner 
of antics about his mane ; but there is no help for it that 
I see, so even that pension prayer will have to be pre- 
ferred by other hands. 

I believe though, upon "sober second thought," that 
I will have it claimed as indemnity. They honestly owe 
it to me, for having destroyed my prospects with the for- 
tunes, (not to say lives,) of some of my friends by their 
wretched legislation. I don't exactly say which it might 
seem invidious, but you know very well to what I allude, 
and may well exclaim in reference to this, "would to 
God the mischief had ended here;" for, incredible as it 
may seem, some have absolutely taken the matter so 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 219 

much to heart that their memories and eyesight have 
been failing ever since, in a manner most distressing to 
behold ! Nor is that all, for sundry rich old pkthorics 
throughout the land have actually been known to fe- 
tigue themselves by "doing the civil" to some waning 
star, much to the regret of all humane observers of their 
very magnanimous though superfluous condescension. 
But it's no use talking: some people loill martyrize 
themselves to their own excessive amiability, though, to 
a feeling mind, nothing can be more truly painful than 
witnessing this self-imposed torture, unless it be seeing 
one of these same devotees Jiold on^ with such a death- 
grip, to every fraction of the " almighty dollar," that the 
poor, unlucky dimes may be heard shrieking and groan- 
ing all over the country like so many fiends in torment, 
and yet delude himself into the belief that he really has 
a soul, and, perhaps, feel uneasy (for a moment or two 
nearly every year of his life,) about the future well- 
being of that nonentity. What a vagary ! K'ot but 
that some people do have souls, others intellects, and 
others again neither ; but, my dear sir, don't worry 
yowself in the least — your divinia (if you have any) 
is nothing in the world but a gnome ! What's that you 
say ? " Twinges of conscience ! " O hush, man ! hush ! 
people will think you have the gout if you talk of 
twinges, though I dare say it's only the dyspepsia. 
But " conscience" indeed ! Now, what did ever put it 
into your head that you had one ? I'm sure nobody 
ever suspected you; and even his reverence here can 
tell you that when St. James speaks of visiting the 
"fatherless and widows in their affliction," he only 
means such as can return the call in their own car- 



220 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

riages ; so do sit down and be quiet, will you, or just go 
about your business. I have no patience with this tire- 
some old world sentimentality ! 

In the meantime, 1 dare say " a summer at the IN'orth 
would be very refresliing^^ in more ways than one ; 
and, perhaps, I may come, for I hear that Barnum, that 
prince of curiosity mongers, ''has been in full chase 
after a woman ever since that genus was superseded by 
the tribe ladies^'' and think of setting up my preten- 
sions when the Lindomania is over. So, success to 
merit ^ for I neither object to the use nor application of 
the term, and retain several other antediluvian ideas 
and prejudices, which would, no doubt, if properly in- 
vestigated, entitle me to rank high as a real, living, 
honafide specimen of the obsolete race. 

But wouldn't I cut a pretty figure in New York upper- 
tendom ? I think I see myself now, sitting in a corner, 
with my finger in my mouth, trying in vain to catch 
the role of conversation, and wondering how long it 
would take all those lambent rays to travel down our 
way. Well, we of the South-West are a great people ; 
that's past all dispute ! For can't we patronize circuses, 
showmen, traveling theatricals and mountebanks of all 
descriptions extensively, support "the almighty dance" 
genteelly, and contribute to any and every thing that 
appeals to either or the whole of our " siventeen sinses" 
very liberally ? To be sure we can ; and, what's more, 
we prefer metallic refrigerators, and are not callous and 
cold like you of the frozen North, but " open as day to 
melting charity," whenever the misery becomes suffi- 
ciently abject and squalid to pain our visual nerves, 
otherwise we don't exactly see the necessity ; but, as to 
making an effort to prevent it's coming to that pass, or 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES, 221 

risking the loan of a dollar to avert the bitter humilia- 
tion of present dependence, or galling apprehension of 
future want: why, the very idea would be preposterous! 
Who cares to help people who will try to help them- 
selves ? If too proud to accept charity, let them suffer ! 
We are not Rasselas' mad astronomer; it isn't our 
province to regulate the affairs of the universe! But 
we can take the first honors in lionizing^ if not endued 
with your patronizing genius; and there's a two-fold 
advantage in that, for it saves abundance of "street- 
yarn," good breath, bad shoe-leather and equivocal 
gratitude, and spares much and very irksome annoy- 
ance to all wayward eccentrics having no taste for be- 
comino- m-and levers of sensation. So, each to his own 
vocation : yoic rather shine in transcendentals ; the 
present and tangible is our forte. Sympathy being a 
costly and somewhat volatile article, we don't keep 
mucli ready bottled for exportation, though we do oc- 
casionally improvise a little for home consumption. 
But then we are too economical by far to subscribe to 
anything more than the nearest seven-by-nine political 
hebdomadal, and, perhaps, a magazine or lady's book 
now and then, just for the sake of pictures and fashion 
plates. As for such lumber as libraries, lohere-s the 
use? — 'who's got time to read them? So, if the chances 
of travel or fluctuations of trade happen, at long inter- 
vals, to waft us a new publication or fragmentary beam 
from the far-off world of literature, " we bless our stars, 
and think it lucky ; " and should some six or seven 
months later bring us another God-send, we seize the 
straggling waif, as if " man need no more to bless him- 
self withal ! " 

But, then, there isn't the slightest occasion for you .to 
19 



222 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

put on any airs of superior wisdom, if you do labor 
under such a perfect plethora of intelligence that it 
would be dangerous to check its flow a single instant, 
(judging from the dignified and condescending forbear- 
ance and profound resignation which most new comers 
assume whenever an " older settler" attempts to slip in a 
word "edgewise; ") for don't you know we lavish untold 
sums on our "rising hopes," sending them to colleges, 
academies, seminaries and institutes by the dozen, till 
they are elegantly educated — their feet and fingers more 
particularly ; — and don't we know they are plenty smart 
and abundantly able to get their " knowledge-boxes" so 
full by the time they are fifteen or sixteen, that they 
never need look in a book again for the balance of their 
natural lives, unless it be one of those delectable little 
"yallow kivers" so opportunely scattered up and down 
the country to prevent people's forgetting their A-B-C's. 
Indeed, it isn't surprising you all should wax jealous 
and wish to overturn our institution ; for it's enough to 
make you feel spiteful, just to think how you, on the 
contrary, have to go on, from year to year, adding 
"line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little, 
and there a little" — plodding away till you get old 
enough for great-grandmothers, that is, five-and-forty, 
or thereabouts. — Really, you are much to be pitied ! 
But, O fie ! I am quite ashamed of you : you don't seem 
to have the least idea how beautifully our high -pressure 
system operates ; and, of course, you can't be expected 
to know how la helle Angele will ring in New Orleans ! " 
Not much, 1 opine, unless she is far more frisky or 
coquettish than usual, or has considerable wealth (or 
the reputation of it) to neutralize the effect of her 
Northern birth and manner. I might as well have 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 223 

said defect, for such it is getting more and more to be 
considered, .thanks to your half-fool, half-crazy Aboli- 
tionists, who ought to be put in straight-jackets, every 
soul of them, and kept on bread and water, and precious 
little of it, till they would condescend to come to their 
senses and mind their own business. This charity that 
is always looking abroad, and never beginning at home, 
is very apt, like other idle, mischief-making gad-abouts, 
to fall into disrepute in both quarters. And, as for 
slavery, don't listen a word to anybody that says it 
isn't demoralizing: it is undoubtedly the very spawn 
of that old imp. Legion ; for if it doesn't seduce a man 
into spending money when he ought to make it, and a 
hundred other enormities, is sure to help him " com- 
pound for sins he feels inclined to, by damning those he 
has no mind to ! " However, there's hope of the world 
yet: I look to see it improve very shortly, now that 
modern improvement has converted the "beam" in 
everybody's eye into a telesco^^e, so that we can all turn 
our attention to redressing grievances at a distance. 
I'm " <9n/?/ a jpassenger^^ but don't mean to back out 
of my share, you see. 

What I mean by the '''-manner^'' is, that there is 
something too staid, or too little '''' Missish^'' about a 
genuine I^^orthern lady — too little advancing to attract 
and retiring to be pursued," to render her very fascinat- 
ing here. And that isn't the worst : this quiet, uniform 
dignity and queen-like self-possession rather excite suspi- 
cion of more mature age than probably belongs to her of 
right ; and when this surmise has once crossed the brain, 
it is stereotyped there as unalterably as "the laws of the 
Medes and Persians," and not the beauty of Venus or 
the face of a Hebe could ever efface the impression. 



224 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Or, rather, people not accustomed to appreciate any but 
the beauty of extreme youth, never trouble themselves 
to look for it where the latter is supposed to be wanting. 
So, to all available purposes, the real or imsigm&ry jMssee 
might as well be a fright as a beauty ; and rather more 
so, according to a quizzical old friend of mine, who used 
to aver, " that, there being more bad tastes than good in 
the world, a plain woman would stand a chance to be 
thought pretty much oftener than if she actually were 
so ; " from all of which you will infer that, unless the 
lady in question difiers materially from most high-bred 
Northern importations, I see no special necessity for any 
of her old admirers going into spasmodics or making 
themselves ultra ridiculous about the matter, any way, 
until the season is over, or so long, at least, as Divinity's 
abroad and mortality safe in its own insignificance. 

But why, upon earth, don't Prince Humbug and King 
Magic put their heads together, and show up, to an ad- 
miring world, our whole American populace harnessing 
itself to the triumphal car of some transatlantic noto- 
riety ? Wouldn't it be delighted to see how the doors 
of too many of the wisest and best, even, in the high 
places of the land, fly open to a foreign actress or adven- 
turiee, and close almost hermetically to indigenous 
talent, equal^ perhaps^ in degree^ though different in 
order, and developed in the less conspicuous (and there- 
fore more truly dignified and appropriate,) departments 
of woman's sphere ? And haven't we a right to boast all 
the time, and more too, of a country able to guard the 
distinction between virtue and vice so jealously, while 
holding out a general amnesty to the faux pas and 
'''"escapades''^ of an imported stale in one hand, and in- 
flicting, with the other, the direst vengeance of outraged 



LETTERS AKD MISCELLANIES. 225 

morality on some fair, frail, fallen sister ? Of conrse we 
have, so being good as we are great, can now aflorcl to 
be just as well as generous and never name the advent 
of an Essler, or any other danseuse in the same age with 
the present avatar; for what right-minded, high-hearted 
woman but must rejoice in the fair name and fair fame 
of this glory-brightened sister- woman ? Who would 
pluck a single leaf from her laurel or darken its splen- 
dor with the dream of a shade? Yet who would not 
gladly see her volunteer Boswells, unpensioned toadies, 
and merciless panegyrists — half our Dailies and Wer.'k- 
lies in short — brought back to common sense, and our 
countrymen to their senses? 

She, is no doubt estimable as she is gifted ; but were 
she instead the degraded cast off leman of every royal 
roue in Europe, who does not know, or at least have 
reason to fear, that it would make very little difference 
in her reception ? None the less for that would all the 
lead and antimony in the country feel bound to put 
themselves in commotion and lead off in most astonish- 
ing paragraphs, sufficient one would think, to justify 
many an ^'anxious mamma" in taking out a commis- 
sion for lunacy, or resorting to the same sanative process 
which the Virginia Esculapius found so efficacious in 
the case of his own volcanic tempered spouse. 

There, now, we have committed ourselves, and the 
"lords" will never forgive us if we omit to say what 
that was. You see, "z^;^" are going to be dignified and 
editorial a bit, just to show the world what it lost when 
we mistook our vocation and refused to practice awhile 
with the ''devils" above before taking charge of the 
apes below ; but as they are unquestionably much more 
addicted to getting up those moral pyrotechnics than 



226 LETIEKS AND MISCELLANIES. 

their " better halves," we merely advise the latter to keep 
perfectly cool on the appearance of the premonitory 
symptoms ; and just summon a sufficient jposse comi- 
tatus to seize the madman, shave his head, blister his 
pate, pour cold water down his back, ^pply mustard to 
his feet, leeches to his temples, put him in straight- 
jackets, and confine him to low diet and close quarters 
for several days after the paroxysm is over ; treating 
him, in short, precisely like any other maniac of the first 
water, paying not the slightest attention to his own as- 
severations of perfect sanity, further than to reply, "Oh 
no, my dear, that can't be ! My husband is a gentle- 
man^ I know he wouldn't give way to such childish ebul- 
litions of insane fury and conduct in tJiis shameful 
manner if he wasn't perfectly deranged! You will be 
better by-and-by, love, (if you are only patient,) but I 
can't let you out yet, indeed I can't ; you are quite deli- 
rious now, I do assure you, darling ! " 

There is no telling how many females might have 
been saved from a lunatic asylum by the judicious appli- 
cation of some such regimen in early life; but it's as 
palpable as day that many a wife and mother neglects 
her husband and son most culpably in this matter, till 
he comes at last to behave in the family circle, (and 
everywhere else, for that matter, where he can venture 
without getting his head broken for his pains,) more 
like a wild yager or snapping turtle in the hydrophobia, 
than a rational human being. 

lN"ow ladies, this is imprudent, very! Yoxi may be will- 
ing to pet and humor the precious bedlamite, and live in 
such constant tremor of apprehension that it's like taking 
your life in your hand every time you have to speak 
to him; but you can't expect the whole world to "walk 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 227 

softly" before liim, and impunit}^ begets want of circum- 
spection, and some day sweet little Moses Job might 
forget "the better part of valor," and flare up and show 
ofi' before somebody besides helpless, unoffending women 
and children. And then there would be squibs and 
bowie-knives, and epigrams and sword-canes, and bul- 
lets, and rejoinders, and depositions, and all sorts of 
murderous instruments put in requisition; and all be- 
cause you, in your mistaken kindness, suflTered the small 
wound, which a skillful hand might have cicatrized, to 
spread, and inflame, and gangrene the whole moral and 
intellectual system, the "little cloud, no bigger than a 
man's hand," to darken and overshadow the whole do- 
mestic horizon, and pour out its black and bitter waters, 
"without let or hindrance," on your very hearthstone! 
Yet this is wrong, all wrong ! Patience and gentleness, 
and meekness, and forbearance, are all very fine things 
and very well {71 their place ; but when they serve to 
engender, strengthen and perpetuate an intolerable 
despotism, till the mailed hand never wearies in smiting 
the fallen, then they are out of place ^ and from virtues 
degenerate into positive weakness if not actual vice. 
And what man — or what petty tyrant rather — ^ whose 
irascibility has not become a monomania admitting no 
lucid interval, but must occasionally feel his cheek tingle 
at the recollection of how futile have often been the best 
efforts of those whom, after all, he perhaps best loves, to 
throw the "mantle of charity" over his great, though 
despicable infirmity, and hide from the world the iron 
heel that never ceases to grind the perfume from the 
crushed rose,* till there is neither blossom nor aroma 
longer to be found ? 

* See Deaf aud Dumb Girl's definition of Forgiveness. 



228 LETTEES AND MISCELLANIES. 

And yet we don't go in for a general revolt, concoct 
treason, instigate rebellion, and preach up insurrection 
by the wholesale. Not bnt that "womankind" has 
many and grievous wrongs that ought to be redressed, 
(or that a few magazines of pitch, turpentine, and salt- 
peter wouldn't be amply sufficient to set the entire solar 
system in a blaze,) but simply because we see no special 
use in throwing the whole spheres into consternation 
merely to strip off her fetters one day^ when it's morally 
certain she'd "gather the links of the broken chain and 
fasten them proudly round her" before eve of the next. 
So instead of shouting, "more privilege," we rather in- 
cline to lop off some of the usurped ''^ prerogative^^'' for 
honestly and soberly we never could see the necessity 
of her making, or suffering Plato's chickens to make, a 
bigger fool of herself than nature ever intended, merely 
because they are delighted with a chance to sneer at her 
for allowing them that privilege. No, nor why that old 
"wooden spoon," common law, should indulge a human 
cone in the perverse, childish freak of alienating her 
f^xther's property from her father's grandchildren and 
bestowing it on those of some one, as foreign perhaps to 
his knowledge or good-will as from his blood and name, 
and then turn round, all in the name of justice^ and 
string up high as Haman, send on his travels, or accom- 
modate with private apartments in states' mansions 
gratis, any blundering mal-adroit human hi^ped^ g^^ilty 
of heing caught making love to his neighbor's strong 
box, or playing at the Merry Sherwood old game of 
" stand and deliver." It's monstrous uneven-handed 
justice at any rate, so a grand demonstration on a small 
scale is about all I have to propose. 

Emollients are wasted on these chronic cases — the 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 229 

Esculapian plan is excellent, but not always practicable, 
yet "Poison may, as Galen held, by counter poison be 
expelled." And when the distempered animal gets so 
exceedingly rabid that no one can feel safe, or breathe 
freely for a moment in his presence, and you can't tell 
for certain whether it was a raving hyena or common 
mad-dog drunk, that bit him, then good wife, sister, or 
mother, our honest opinion is, that it's your obvious and 
"bounden duty" to take the responsibility, "hold the 
mirror up to nature," show your own virus, snap your 
teeth, foam and froth at the mouth, and lead ofl" in a 
startling exhibition of most frantic rage. Or, in other 
words, when you see, (and 3^ou'll not need to wait long,) 
that the steam is rising very fast and no mistake, make 
all haste and be the first to explode — it may be that the 
suddenness and fury of the concussion will shock the 
frenzied mctlade into his sober senses. " Yes, but scenes 
are so appalling and disgraceful ! " Exactly so, and 
that's the very reason why audacity should succeed where 
servility fails. " Coals of fire " don't burn a salamander, 
give the reptile a full charge of electricity with a slight 
touch of galvanism, and then see. 

Only once gather courage from desperation, cease 
licking the foot under which you writhe, turn upon 
power, beard the lion in his den, or rather the tiger in 
his lair, and, (there being no room to get worse,) the 
chances are that the fractious, insensate brute may, in 
process of time, become quite a respectable, well-be- 
haved — bear. But oh, you'll never do it! and here's 
all this good breath — no, inh^ for we wouldn't have 
talked that much at one time for all the wasps, hornets, 
and self-igniting lucifer matches in creation — toasted 
upon you for nothing ! Well, it can't be helped ; but 



230 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

as long and critical investigation of the lusiis called ones- 
self, brings some outsiders, with the ver}^ best intentions 
of thinking just as well of then:iselves as the case will 
possibly admit, to the mortifying conclusion that they 
really have not any decided penchant for being kicked 
and cursed one minute and petted and blarneyed the 
next; its a great pity the effect of these interesting, racy, 
little scenic domesticicB couldn't be patented for the ex- 
clusive use and benefit of those who have. 

But a truce to common madmen, Lindomaniacs are all 
the rage just now. Look how 

" They rave, recite, and madden through the land!" 

If any half-dozen of their effusions (taken consecu- 
tively) wouldn't thrown an ordinarily impressible mortal 
into a brain fever, then inflammatory diseases can't be 
contagious, that's certain. Indeed it's quite doubtful 
whether he could digest all the paradoxical and con- 
flicting statements found in a single one, without feel- 
ing a slight stricture in the region of his gullibility — 
unless he happened to wear double "glorification specs" 
which would take him straight through at a single 
glance. But are the " sons" noivhere we should like to 
know, that all these lords of the tripod are thus laying 
aside composition sticks and cold water, and taking to 
opera-glasses and champagne with impunity? How- 
ever, we can't waste any more time upon you, just 
now. Messieurs les Typos^ so stand aside till your 
betters are served — divinity before humanity always. 

And that's the reason why there's no place in the 
round world half so suitable as " Freedom's area," for 
getting up tempests in teapots, canonizations, apotheoses, 
and such like moral phenomena, in the shortest pos- 
sible time and most unexceptionable style; for every- 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 231 

body knows we are the wisest, best, most virtuous, and 
enlightened nation nnder heaven, we have settled that 
question long ago to our own entire satisfaction. Poor 
Artists might, to be sure, prefer an arrangement which 
w^ould divest them of animal wants a little sooner ; but 
that sordid reflection never troubled Jenny Lind, who 
had, it seems, friends able to send her abroad to take 
music lessons in childhood. Stop, there's a mistake at 
the very first outset — " she made her own loay in the 
world P'^ Oh she did, did she? It was quite fortunate 
for her then, that we did allow Europe to retain the 
initiative, and confer the preliminary degrees; and all 
owing to our being an age or two " behind the times," 
that we never heard before, that this same " nightingale 
of Sweden" ever did fly from the spires of Stockholm 
to the cross of I^otre Dame, live upon insects, sip 
honey-dew, perch out of nights, and carol from the 
topmost twig of some umbrageous bough to admiring 
earth-worms below, as a bird of her prerogative had a 
most undoubted right. '* How absurd, just as if a bird 
of song didn't have to have its callow days." And 
besides, she cuts no such ridiculous antics now that 
she's full-fledged, but behaves (and that's much to her 
credit) very like an ordinary mortal, and quite as 
modestly and sensibly as any body could while so sadly 
bored with all this vulgar parade and sycophancy. 
"Well then, these facts and the habits of the nineteenth 
century altogether taken into consideration, it is rather 
probable that that trip to Paris cost money (not to 
mention personal protection), or if it didn't we should 
like to know, and may be stepping over ourselves some 
of these days. But ex nihil nihil fit^ said the ancient 
heathen, and hard cash and bank notes are not nothing^ 



232 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

or we should have had our hands full long ago. And 
being something^ as anybody may find to his cost if he 
attempts to appropriate, except in a legal way,, more than 
belongs to him, the presumption is that they must have 
come from somewhere. She did not pour liquid gold from 
her throat in those days, and if she evolved it from ''^her 
own self-sustaining powers^^ in any other form, where 
was Barnum then, that we never heard of this astonishing 
peasant child, able to place herself under the first musical 
tuition of the age, never till she became a woman, and 
had undergone the first metempsychosis ? But perhaps 
her parents sent her, though we shouldn't exactly infer 
it from the phrase " alone and unaided^ No indeed 
(and worse and worse, we shall never get through with- 
out those specs). '' They were j?cc>r, quite poor, and owe 
their present competence to her talent and filial afiec- 
tion!" And suppose they didn't, who is going to 
admit that a Swedish peasant, or Russian serf could 
by any possibility of means, be any better ofi" in any 
respect than our American yeomen^ who often find it 
difticult, as everybody knows, to educate a child thirty 
or forty miles from home at an inexpensive country 
boarding-school ? For what would all the ''''free and 
enlightened'^^ do, if they couldn't have southern slaves, 
and " the down trodden vassals of European despotism" 
for safety-valves commensurate with the largest liberty of 
their own universal sympathy? Then, if she didn't, 
and they coiddnH play the divinia pecunia on the occa- 
sion, who did? Somebody must, for to Paris she went, 
there's no getting round that fact ; though there was no 
^' extraneous assistances^ in all that, of course not ! 

Madame.^ the vocalist however, sent her back with 
the injunction ^' not to open her mouth again to sing, 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 233 

for three years." Her divinity-ship, be it remembered, 
was still in abeyance, for she hadn't touched "the shores 
of freedom" yet ; but if the faithful insist notwithstand- 
ing, that she lived all that time on nectar and ambrosia, 
we promise to give in — misbelieving infidel that we 
are — ^just as soon as they demonstrate, past possibility 
of cavil, the ability of their own intellectuality and 
spirituality combined, to support vitality for a single 
month even. Till then, we shall have strong misgivings 
that her parents, or somebody else, must have con- 
tributed, partially or indirectly at least, to her support 
during that long probation ; and that^ according to 
Beaumarchais, was something^ still there was " no jpa- 
ironage'^ there — oh none in the world.* 

But suppose the vulgar necessity of eating and drink- 
ing (not to mention the convenience of some little 
shelter and clothing in a climate as ccld as that of 
Sweden), had actually compelled her to violate again 
and again that judicious restriction ; or resort, for the 
miserable pittance of her daily bread, to some other 
avocation equally fatal to the full developement of that 
rare physical organization, on which her artistic ex- 
cellence so eminently depends ! What then had become 
of all her rich gift of genius ? Where then had been 
this glorious child of song? Gone — crushed into the 
grave by the stern hand of poverty, that lays its fell 
gripe on the heartstrings, and wrings out the very life of 
life from the secret soul of existence. Or worse — 
chained down to menial toil, mid the undistinguished 

* " You think yourself a great man, M. le Comte, because you are a 
Grand Seigneur, raorbleu! It has cost me, a simple unit in the great 
mass, a greater expenditure of skill and judgment to exist merely than 
has been employed for these hundred years in governing all the Spaius." 



234: LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

throng, her heart turned to gall, her very brain on fire 
with the recollection of what irdglit have heen^ and the 
untold agony of that life-long-yearning, for the wild, free 
gush of that matchless minstrelsy, whose tones haunt 
all her sleeping and waking dreams ; but must never, 
never thrill upon mortal ear. That is " where," that is 
''''what^'' not only might, but Tnust have been, what the 
unsealed records of eternity no doubt will show has 
often leen^ when there was no discriminating hand to 
shelter and protect the common, perhaps unsightly shell, 
while the unseen chrysolite within was working out its 
own peculiar idea of glory, and of beauty. 

She was spared all this; yet she, we are gravely told, 
'•'' had no jpat7'onage^'^'' nxid the Press and the drawing- 
room re-echo the tale, till the ear wearies of its flagitious 
dissonance. " iV6> jpatronageV Do men know what 
they are talking about, when asserting such nonsense as 
this % Do they not know, it is a burning insult (not of 
incense) to the idol their own hands have set up for the 
" many-headed monster" to bedin with its ostentatious 
homage of the hour ? Do they not see, that it is virtu- 
ally telling the crowned victor in life's warfare, " what 
you have achieved is so very little that we cannot pos- 
sibly make you out a respectable psean, without adding 
the ascription of all manner of impossibilities!" 

But were their folly and impertinence all, they, and 
their absurd panegyrics and corollaries might pass. 
Unfortunately they are not — they are instinct with con- 
ceit — the very incarnation of ingratitude, a mocking 
insult to the generous and noble few who have ^^ done 
what they coidd'''' to start the winner toward the goal ! 
What if their offerings were simple and small, their 
efforts crude, or weak, and not always successful ? Do 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 235 

they deserve for that, to have them tossed back in de- 
rision, or taunted as nothing worth? The "widow's 
mite," the kindly word, the cheering tone, the homing 
love^ the loorhing zeal^ of some humble friend, some 
sister artist it may be, who had " the discerning of 
spirits," shall all these pass away and be forgotten " as 
a tale that is told," lest the "still small voice" say unto 
us — "go thou and do likewise?" 

The diamond of genius cuts its trace in the future, 
the pearl of the soul leaves its record on high ; for soul 
is loftier than intellect, and this it is, that enables men 
to contribute, not grudgingly, not ignorantly, but freely, 
"knowingly and advisedly," to the furtherance of a 
fortune and a fame destined erelong to o'ershadow their 
own. And shall not their deeds be remembered, aye 
and recorded too^ on earth as well as in heaven. These 
are the men, these the women, but for whom many a 
benefactor and pride of his race had gone down, an idle 
dreamer, to the silent dust — sneered at in life, derided 
in death, insulted in the grave — his very name made 
"a by-word and jest" for all visionary scheming. All 
honor and glory to such — they are the Livingstons to 
Fulton, the Isabellas to Columbus ; renown is their 
right ^ why is it withheld ? 

"A nameless man amid a crowd 

That thronged the daily mart. 
Let fall a word of hope and love, 

Unstudied from the heart : — 
The deed was small, the issue great, 

A transitory breath. 
It raised a brother from the dust. 

And saved a soul from death. 
Oh deed, oh tone, oh word of love, 

Oh thought at random cast, 



236 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Ye are but little at tlie first. 
But mighty at the last !" * 

And now, Mr. Penny-a-liner, we'll attend to your 
case. You sport the Irishman's coat of arms, (Ignor- 
ance and Impudence,) "with an air of great dagnitj;" 
but when did you ever extend a helping-hand to a young 
aspirant, unless it was to help him off the track ? We've 
an eye upon a niche in glory's temple that will suit you 
exactly, and no doubt but your sapience will become the 
pillory uncommonly well ; yet stay, you don't deserve to 
be seen anywhere in the same cycloid with the afore- 
mentioned good company, so e'en go your ways, for a 
nice little mannikin as you are. We are not general 
reviewer, (though that's because our merits haven't 
got properly abroad yet,) so can afford to practice mod- 
eration, and there's no use, as somebody observes, "in 
breaking a butterfly on a wheel." ^N'o, nor of trying to 
stuff more than half a dozen sheets into one single en- 
velo]3e. So you can be reading these and praying for 
sunshine, for if it doesn't come, it's just as clear as 
"manifest destiny," (in cloudy weather,) that you will 
be very apt to get the remainder. Mais nous ven'ons. 

PART SECOND— DATE THE 5TH. 

Well, my dear, you do see, "it never rains but it 
pours," and this time it never has left off, though it's 
the first I ever knew but what did. 

Answering your next question is very like telling tales 
out of school ; but as I am a sort of outlaw that doesn't 
even count in the census for the last ten or fifteen years, I 
suppose it makes no difference what I say, and I do gene- 

*See Charles Mackay's "Song of Life." 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 237 

rally find people very Mnd^ especially during the first sick- 
ness I have in any one family. But then they expect you'll 
have the grace to get well or die^ (as a good Christian 
should.) and there being, unluckily, more tenacity than 
elasticity in my constitution, 1, unfortunately, do neither; 
and when the crisis is past, and there is nothing the 
matter only you don't get well, they are apt to '' wax 
weary in well doing." 

For example : when you have once — after half a dozen 
difierent efibrts, perhaps — achieved the exploit of dress- 
ing and getting down stairs, you may crawl up again 
"on all -fours -' — not "choose any supper," have "no 
appetite for breakfast," and "care ver}^ little for dinner," 
for weeks together, before anybody seems to notice that 
you are not perfectly re-established ; and if — as is very 
probable under such circumstances — you take a relapse, 
it is a most infallible signal for "the best servant" to 
be taken sick, or " out into the field," and the family to 
discover that they "are not fixed for taking boarders, 
and don't like to have people about them unless they 
can do them justice." The house, too, gets, all of a 
sudden, entirely too small for your accommodation, and, 
as you haven't grown any larger, the probability is, that 
it has become smaller — shrunk up, perhaps, in the 
night, like the old iron dungeon of Este, or crept ofi* in 
part to the usual receptacle; for, wherever else "^ 
room^^ may be wanting, you will be sure to find one 
in the mouth of the speaker on these occasions. Just 
then it happens to be recollected, too, chat the " very 
agreeahle hoarder''^ was originally fi*om the Xorth — a 
fact which demonstrates her, j^er se^ to be " ten times 
more trouble than ordinary: " of course, you can't won- 
der they " should prefer (though more for your sake 
20 



238 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

than their own,) that you should look you out another 
boarding-house." 

This agreeable intimation, being an excellent sedative 
for a highly nervous and very sensitive invalid, is gene- 
rally administered when compliance is utterly inexpe- 
dient, if not wholly impracticable ; from whence I infer 
that it is either meant to elicit an advance upon existing 
prices, or as a pretty explicit hint that you are no longer 
to indulge in the hallucination that you have some rights 
merely because you happen to pay for them. The first 
being rarely optional with one compelled to live with 
the whole " heart, mind and soul," out on " committee 
of ways and means " how to make or save a picayune, 
submission to the second is the almost inevitable conse- 
quence ; and thenceforth you are to recollect that you 
are there upon toleration, like some " poor relation " or 
unwelcome visitor who has protracted his stay beyond 
all reasonable bounds, and demean yourself accordingly. 
Find it perfectly convenient to sit on a trunk, write on a 
band-box, hold a candle in one hand, pen or needle in 
the other ; use your scissors for snuffers, feet and fingers 
for tongs; "never ken it or care" if every fractured, 
jagged-edged cup, loose-handled knife, broken-tined 
fork, and brassy, dissipated old spoon on the premises, 
happen, by some strange fatality, invariably to fall to 
your share; nor feel the least surprised should your 
pitcher decamp without saying "by your leave" — your 
carpet and andirons (if ever you had any,) see fit to 
emigrate — your looking-glass, and other toilette accesso- 
ries more purely personal, take to gadding, and feel 
deeply aggrieved by a hint to return — your ''^ uncannie^'' 
tumbler, candlestick, inkstand, and other utensils, have 
the impertinence to make themselves invisible, change 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 239 

characters^ and commit all sorts of diablerie before 
jour very face and eyes, and even your decent, well- 
behaved, good, honest, Christian-looking wash-bowl 
spirit itself off to parts unknown, or be transformed, 
"by wicked cantrip sleight," into a leaky, battered, 
rusty old basin, much addicted to absenteeism : for 
neither nor all of these things would be half so miracu- 
lous as the finding in your room all, or a majority even, 
of the articles named, in the very height of your palm- 
iest days. 

The not being ^^fixecV is a " true bill ; " for the resi- 
due of the intimation, set that all down as so much 
moonshine or unalloyed rusticity ; and, rest assured, the 
very atmosphere of our larger towns and villages is too 
polished, by far, to allow such excessive verdancy any- 
thing more than " short shrift" and speedy dissolution. 
Not but that a fair proportion of the more genteel fami- 
lies w^ill, for a proper " consid-er-a-tion^'' do themselves 
the very great indignity to take a few boarders, merely 
to accommodate the public, for tlie sal'e of comjpany^ 
or out of special liking for the individual — just, for in- 
stance, as every superfluous feminine of the North inva- 
riably pilgrimates South, or West, for the benefit of 
her health, not " to seek her fortune," or hide her pov- 
erty and pride by any manner of means. 

Half of them may, it is true, have little or no other 
means for keeping up their tables or toilettes, or perhaps 
both ; but then they'd have you to know — they would, 
indeed — that it's a very great condescension for every- 
body in the South-West, themselves in particular, to 
take boarders at all ; so you must expect to sue very 
humbly, walk very circumspectly, and pay very roundly 
for the privilege of sleeping — if sleep one of your humble 



240 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

pretensions can — under a roof of such aristocratic " three 
pile glass" as theirs ! It may leak a little, to be sure, 
though that's neither here nor there ; but, as to the com- 
promise of dignity, it strikes me, that, if mine were of 
that ephemeral, mushroom cast, that vanishes before the 
first sunshine of utility, I should make shipwreck of the 
whole concern, and commence de novo. For the rest — 
is it not a pity, that, when people do actually do you a 
favor, they will not allow you to feel a little grateful, 
instead of annihilating their own claims and merging 
your gratitude in a painful sense obligation, by remind- 
ing you ever after of their own unexampled kindness 
and liberality, and your helplessness and dependence? 
How any sensible person can subscribe to the absurd 
vagary, that Northern ladies generally make more trou- 
blesome boarders than Southern ones, I cannot, for the 
life of me, conceive, unless it is because the former do 
sometimes "do up" their own muslins and laces, make 
their own beds, sweep and dust their rooms, and keep 
their brushes, combs, washstands and dressing-tables 
{alias mantle-pieces) in order, which the latter seldom or 
never do when boarding out of their own family connec- 
tion. Nor should any one of the others, unless ambi- 
tious of being considered '' one of the family," at the 
expense of officiating as universal convenience, unpen- 
sioned seamstress, and standing subject of aggression 
ever after. With you such a series of encroachments 
on gratuitous exertion might originate in avarice; here, 
I am inclined to think, it arises much oftener from a 
thoughtless unconsciousness or disregard of the peculiar 
value of time and effort to those who have little of either 
at their own disposal : but the result is the same, and 
the safest way is, to ignore everything that is passing 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 241 

around you ; know nothing, do nothing, and have it 
understood that your whole genius lies in saving stitches ; 
for if you once suffer innate taste, good nature or love 
of order to betray you into neglecting your own health 
or personal affairs for the execution of various little, 
frivolous matters — constituting an aggregate for which 
a regular employee would expect (though you, of course, 
would not,) something more substantial than mere com- 
pliments in return — there is no more otium cum dig- 
nitate for you, though there may be such a thing as a 
"fugitive from labor" in the mind's eye of others. And 
should you subsequently venture to aggravate defection, 
by expecting the same attention that others, who never 
raise a finger in like manner, receive for the same spe- 
cific equivalent, the proceeding will, to a moral cer- 
tainty, be ridiculed as a " putting on of airs," if not 
resented as a downright imposition. 

Yet, one might, reasonably enough, suppose that 
either of the afore-mentioned idiosyncracies — enuring, 
as it ultimately must, to the benefit of the mistress 
by the relief of her servants — ought to atone for a little 
extravagance in the use of cold water, especially when 
the consumer, as is often the case, helps herself. But 
you who were " to the manner born," and have not, in 
all probability, mended your ways or rectified your 
opinions by a residence in the domains of her majesty, 
Queen Victoria, have no conception how eccentric, not 
to say improper, it is to persist in the whimsey that a 
pint of water is rather a limited allowance for a proper 
ablution, and disrelish the idea of having half a dozen 
pair of eyes watching every evolution of its progress, or 
your instinctive delicacy so often outraged by being 
burst in upon, that you get at last to feel quite present- 



242 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

able if only caught in one remove from a "birth -day 
suit." Some foreign travelers do, to be sure, complain 
of being not a little annoyed and restricted in these 
matters ; but then, poor, ignorant, benighted creatures, 
they can't be expected to know any better; though 
everybody in ''this enlightened land" ought to know 
that there isn't the slightest occasion for us who live in 
these bilious climes, to be half as particular in prevent- 
ing the reabsorption of poisonous exhalations as are 
the infatuated children of Aquarius who reside in colder 
regions. 

Ptitting away their scissors, thimbles, bonnets, shawls, 
etc., is another exceptionality of the aforesaids ; conse- 
quently, they are seldom or never accessory to getting 
tip one of those "general can*aras," in which the whole 
posse of " house-hands," assisted by a strong deputation 
from the kitchen, amuse themselves by the hour, in 
running over each other at every turn and corner, stir- 
ring up trunks, upsetting band-boxes, diving into " old 
clothes-nests," whirling drawers topsy-turvy, turning the 
whole house upside down and inside out, ransacking 
every hole and corner, and all to ''get wj?" a mislaid 
glove or missing pocket-handkerchief 1 

To see the scene in all its glory, you should have my 
lord and master striding up and down between the house 
and carnage every five or ten minutes, looking " black 
as forty thunderbolts ; " or, if he chance to be " one of 
your patient, all-enduring men," drawing himself up 
into the smallest possible compass, and keeping "out 
of harm's way" with most exemplaiy presence of mind, 
yet every now and then furtively eyeing the progress of 
the hurricane, with such " a laughing devil in his sneer," 
that the poor, half-crazed delinquent feels, for the mo 



i 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 243 

ment, as if "hanging, drawing and quartering" would 
be a hundred thousand times too good for him ! 

You may chance to know that these grand houleverse- 
ments are not peculiar to Southern households, and 1 
wouldn't, for the world, insinuate that they are matters 
of every-day occurrence even there, only thsit I believe 
/ have seen something of the sort, and should infer, 
from the general effect, that t7ie absence of the Jiahit 
ivhiGh forms the primum mohile ought, in common 
justice, to be considered a fair set-off against the enor- 
mity of requiring to have some small space where you 
can " commune with your own heart in your chamber, 
and be still" — some quiet retreat to which you can 
sometimes retire from the senseless clamor of idle 
tongues and the weary nothings of commonplace, and 
think your own thoughts, free from the galling surveil- 
lance of those everlasting human eyes, forever watching 
every flitting shade of expression, and taking away from 
your very soul all consciousness of security, all thought 
of secrecy — some little sanctuary, in shoi't, from which 
you can occasionally venture to exclude all the world, 
and feel alone with yourself and your God ! 

If there is any other peculiarity in the exactions of a 
Northern boarder, I have been trying in vain, for the 
last fifteen years, to discover what it is, and presume 
the extra trouble must lie in the Southern lady's own 
utter inability to appreciate the feeling which makes 
privacy and free ablution necessaries of life to one 
born and educated farther North. The following anec- 
dote will, better than anything else, illustrate the great 
disparity of idea and habit between the two on this 
point. 

Some years since, when it took much longer to de- 



244 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

scend '-''La Belle Riviere'''' than at present, (especially 
if filled with ice), I met a very pleasant party from the 
shores of the Chesapeake, and an equally agreeable 
lady, who was making her first egress from the refined 
and literary emporium of the Bay State. The first day 
all went on charmingly ; but on the second, Madame^ 
the Yengese, began to draw ofi* perceptibly, and on 
each succeeding one to wax colder and colder. Believ- 
ing that " murder will out," I said nothing ; though 
having emerged from my own room just in time to wit- 
ness her shocked and surprised looks, on finding the 
whole of the other party " out in the puhlic cahin^ 
OAuong strangers^'' going through, very deliberately, 
and with the utmost nonchalamce^ all the minutiae of a 
rather elaborate traveling toilette, of which " washing 
formed one of the later and least considerable opera- 
tions," I was not very much puzzled to divine the cause. 
Indeed, it was quite amusing to contrast the nervous 
apprehension with which she watched the folding-doors, 
lest any eye profane should chance to glance on beau- 
ties too entirely unadorned to suit her taste, with their 
manifest indifi*erence to the passing and repassing of 
chambermaids, and their sufiering the impatient steward 
to poke his head in every few minutes, and inquire " if 
the ladies were all ready," ^1/52^ as unconcernedly as if it 
were only a cloud passing over the face of the moon ! 
About the third day, I think it was, mortal woman 
could stand it no longer ; so she kindly drew me aside, 
to shield my youth and inexperience from further con- 
tamination, by imparting her ''^ deliherate conviction 
that we had unfortunately fallen in company with a 
band of traveling courtesans ! " 

I believe she did, at last, admit that "there mighty 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 245 

possibly, be pJiysical purity existing under such cir- 
cumstances ; but she was sure, quite sure^ there could 
be no real purity of thought^ where the natural and in- 
stinctive delicacy of woman was so grossly, wantonly, 
habitually, and even unconsciously outraged!" Per- 
haps she would have thought differently, had she known 
what an extensive list of words and phrases Southern 
ladies have interdicted for indelicacy, though I never 
could see wherein they were so much worse behaved 
than other English ; and no doubt commit many an 
egregious and indecent blunder, from pure inability to 
recollect which of two synonymous expressions, is the 
tabooed term. 

But " honor to whom honor," and according to the 
best of my belief, observation, and information thusfar^ 
no southern horn female — and mind I don't say lady, 
for ladies are not addicted to such habits anywhere 
that I know of — ever outrages decorum as too many 
northern mothers often do, while nursing their infants 
in the presence of whoever may chance to look on, with- 
out ever seeming to suspect, what unspeakable felicity 
it would afford the spectator, to dash a whole bucketful 
of water upon them, by way of making them turn aside, 
or cover themselves up, for once at least, if not always 
convenient to leave the room on such an occasion. But 
no — there they sit, half naked, with the utmost com- 
posure, and never dream that they, and their children 
reared under such auspices, are not perfect models of re- 
finement; and abundantly well qualified by a little 
book-learning to set up for censors of the manners, 
morals and customs of the South. Yet if there is one 
thing more intensely disgusting than another, it is, to 
see a great, greasy, swarthy-looking hag, or little 
21 



246 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

shriveled, dried up mummy of a thing, strip herself to 
the waist — or suffer some great calf of a yearling, whom 
any reasonable mortal would take for her grandchild, to 
do it for her — and leave her whole chest exposed to 
occupy the liands as well as mouth, of ''^mother's 
precious angel darling^'' while her own are busy pat- 
ting and toying with its nakedness, just as if she thought 
herself, and the dirty, ugly, " regular tartar and brim- 
stone'' little wretch, perfect model artists, and every- 
body else as fond as herself of such exhibitions. 
Pshaw! It's worse, if possible, than seeing a great 
chuckle-head, amber-distillery, blear-eyed, blubber-lip- 
ped, unwieldy, porpoise of a man, or a bouncing, wheez- 
ing, if not skinny, rawboned, old witch of a woman, 
with a map of all the lines and angles of geometry in her 
face, " hilling and cooing!'^ It's a wonder to me, that 
nuisances of both classes don't get shot down, or disap- 
pear by the dozens, in communities that encourage 
scavengers and tolerate whole hordes of rising young 
surgeons, who havn't possessed themselves, as yet, of a 
" dear deceased" in their own right. Possibly the for- 
mer may scoop up a nauseous excrescence now and 
then ; but the latter always fail, it is presumed, in 
nerving themselves up to touching anything so intole- 
rably loathsome even with the scalpel and dissecting- 
knife. 

Be that as it may, and other things as they will, these 
remarks are none of the most delicate in the world — 
though all the more graphic for that, be it remembered — 
but that isn't half so distressing as the reflection that 
both parties are evidently past all hope of reclamation. 
They of the north are entirely too wise to be instructed 
by anybody, though the very negroes here (Heaven 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 247 

help the poor darky that ever falls into their hands) 
might teach them more modesty ; and the reverse of 
that reason, makes the case equally hopeless on the 
other side. Here at the South, men (who must needs 
have all the sense in the world inasmuch as we women 
have none,) are vastly too knowing to take a hint from 
their better-halves in the construction of their domicils. 
So the latter have to go on from week to w^eek and year 
to year, cramming all the " five corners of every room" 
full of beds, in which to stow away the whole household 
(the female portion of it I mean) whenever the conjugal 
hive swarms ; that is, whenever the hopeful progeny 
gets too large — no, too numerous — for the whole to 
pack in with "Pa and Ma" any longer; and then, to 
mend the matter, cover all the intermediate space with 
pallets, every night, for negro women and children, boys 
and girls (some of the former large enough to count for 
men in the field), so that the little misses have to grow 
up from infancy to maturity, accustomed to dress, un- 
dress and expose themselves just as freely in their pre- 
sence, as if they were so many cats and dogs. 

Some far-ofl* Physiologist does, to be sure, occasion- 
ally lift up his voice against the " insalubrity^^ of in- 
haling, during the hours of sleep, the fetid atmosphere 
generated by such promiscuous crowds ;" but if you 
want to hear the immorality of the thing denounced, 
you must go with some ^^ dirty indecent novelist'''' to a 
Parisian cellar or London garret, v)e are altogether too 
modest and virtuous to think of anything indecorous. 
And who shall dare to inquire, if it is reasonable to 
suppose that the inferior, whose animal passions may 
be strong in proportion as his intellects are weak, is 
always equally heedless ? And if not, whether parents 



248 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

and all others who perpetuate this custom, are not, in- 
directly at least, accessory to, and responsible for, many 
of those appalling occurrences, which usually terminate 
in the roasting beforehand, of some brutal wretch, for a 
nameless outrage on perhaps the wife, sister, or daughter 
of his own master ? That such events occur so rarely, 
under existing circumstances, is, to me, an unanswer- 
able argument in favor of the wide and irremediable 
disparity of race; that this barrier is sometimes over- 
leaped, is I believe, owing more than men will like to 
admit, to the fact that husbands, fathers and brothers, 
have never once dreamed of placing that among the 
jpossible contingencies^ that might result from their own 
mismanagement. 

Southerners are not overmuch given, at best, to wast- 
ing an}^ superfluous amount of time investigating the 
nature of cause and effect ; and cannot of course be ex- 
pected to do it now, when their whole souls would revolt 
from the conclusion, to which I honestly believe it would 
inevitably lead. Would they do so, 1 fancy we should 
soon see very different domestic and dormitorial ar- 
rangements ; and a less universal habit of " putting on 
full steam," to make a little more cotton, to buy another 
negro to make a little more cotton, and so on ad injini- 
tum ; just for instance, as your humble servant com- 
presses her lines more and more, on every page she 
attempts to trace. 

I dare say you are asleep, so — 

To Morpheus, my dear cousin. 

Louise. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 249 



DEMAND FOR A SONG' 

B]) one who assumed^ in sporty to he Jenny Lind; 
and Eeply. 

A SONG for my lute that shall float on its chords, 
A measure all glowing with gladness and glee; 

A tone gushing out from the heart's sweetest wards, 
This, this is my tribute, oh minstrel, from thee. 

No fear for the future, no accent of pain, 

No care for the present must sadden its tone; 

Youth, beauty and hope must e'en breathe in its strain, 
Like birds of bright plumage that upward have 
flown. 

For my life is still young in its freshness and truth. 
And I deem that the future will aye be the same; 

Then weave me a song like the smile of my youth. 
To float on my lute, down the current of fame. 



Oh NO — ^for I'm old^ though the register tells 

Fewer lusters by far than are traced on my brow ; 

And a voice from the past, ever silently swells 
The dirge of the hopes that are withered and low. 

Then vjoke not its tone^ for I shrink from the tread 
Of those echoless steps that are thronging the stair; 

The altered, the absent, the distant the dead — • 

They are coming — all coming — and gathering there! 



250 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

And the sigh of each leaf in the blossom of life, 
As the petal was reft and flung to the breeze ; 

(Like the song of the swan, or the dolphin's last dyes 
Appealing in anguish to winds and to seas) ; 

It is moaning for aye in the wierd spirit's wail, 
As mem'ry summons each ghost from the crowd 

Of shadowless forms, that are strewing the gale 
With the damp and the mildew that clings to the 
shroud. 

And my heart, life and lute all smell of its mold, 
'No ray of bright promise now cheers me along, 

And my brow is not all that is careworn and old, 
For no muse but deep sorrow presides o'er my song. 

Leona. 

Miss., Feb., 1851. 



LETTER XIX. 

SALMAGUNDI OF GOSSIP AND AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

5: n. Miss., April, 1851. 

Dear Dora: — 

You w^ill be surprised, though I trust not disagreeably 
so, at receiving, for the first time in your life, a line 
from your long wandering cousin. 

I claim no special ovation for the gratuity, for when 
a culprit is sure to be detected, do what he will, he may 
as well "confess and be hanged" at once. And it is 
just possible, that but for circulating the inclosed, I 
might not have found time to write quite so soonj still 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 251 

I have always intended doing so, ever since I knew that 
you too were far away from the home of your youth, 
and that one after another of your elder sisters had 
gone down, like nearly all I love, to the silent grave. 
Ignorance of your address, and the uncertainty of my 
own have hitherto deterred me; but thanks to uncle 

J- 's last, the former difficulty is now obviated — 

though you may feel no special gratitude therefor — 
and Clara tells me, you are a wife and mother. A 
happy one, I hope and trust; though I should not always 
have inferred it, quite as matter of course, from the fact 
that you had assumed the name, and with it, I hope, as 
much as may be, of t\\Q feelings of a mother, to several 
children not literally yours. 

There is, I apprehend, something instinctively revolt- 
ing, if not almost humiliating, in the very name of 
second wife or step -mother^ and the office itself can be 
no sinecure, particularly here at the South where people 
are somewhat sensible, and consequently aware, how 
inadequate is a whole lifetime of self-abnegation and 
subservience to repair, to their children, the irreparable 
wrong of having exposed them to the sins and sorrows 
of this life, and the fearful uncertainties of the next; 
and it certainly is very hard atoning for injuries one 
has not committed, yet on the vjJiole^ playing la helle 
mere (how much softer and prettier is this than our 
coarse English phrase), to whatever number of "young 
hopefuls" may have the audacity to call any one man 
" Father^'' can scarce be worse than enacting step- 
mother de facto to all the dirty, ugly little wretches 
in community! And with the comfortable assurance 
too, as in my case, that by the time one set of the 
" varmints" has been caught and caged long enough to 



252 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

be demi-civilized, they will have to be dispersed, and 
their quondam to pay as dearly for the respite as would 
Esop's Fox had his benevolent friend, the swallow, per- 
sisted in his humane intentions. The stepping may not 
be perfectly felicitous, especially if it happens, as I 
suppose it does once in a thousand years or so, to be 
stejpwife as well as mother; but I do begin to think 
there is something a little ridiculous in the tenacity with 
which certain old friends of ours adhere to their primi- 
tive opinion, that it constitutes the crowning agony of 
all female martyrdom; my own private opinion ("publicly 
expressed") being that it consists either in "governess- 
ing," or being tied to some miserly, vulgar old fool, or 
contemptible sot. 

Lady Teazle's reply to Sir Peter's taunt respecting 
her former position, namely: "that she recollected it 
distinctly, and a very disagreeable one it was," etc., is 
very apropos — ^to the general question I mean, not to 
your particular case, there I trust it may be wholly ir- 
relevant; for you, I hope, never found shooting young 
ideas half so intolerably irksome as myself. 

It is not the mere physical labor and confinement that 
render it so oppressive, though you in Old Virginia have 
no idea what a constitution of iron it requires even for 
that, here in the South-west ; nor what uncommon effort 
and ability it demands to maintain the least ascendency 
over the minds of pupils, where one half the parents 
are much like the aggrieved father, who had "been 
sending to school and paying out his money ybr three 
whole years^ to have his son learn Latin, and nou\ he 
couldn't even do a sum in Simple Literest!" They, of 
course, are quite as apt to find fault when their children 
do well as when they do ill, a majority of the balance 



LETTERS AND ^HSCELL ANTES. 253 

don't care, or if they do, have all got in snch a tremen- 
dous hurry, of late, that if it wasn't for the opportune 
invention of snags and steamboat explosions, death, 
poor fellow, might die of starvation, for all them, for he 
never could overtake them. And even the best dis- 
posed and more sensible, who don't exactly expect to 
outrun him, seem to think they are doing the cause of 
education good service if they only find time to listen 
pretty regularly to ex jparte reports of each day's pro- 
ceedings, instead of dropping in every now and then, 
impromptu, as they should, to evince interest, gratify 
curiosity, or make suggestions; but unfortunately they 
are much oftener training up idle and contemptible, if 
not captious and mischief-making gossips and busy- 
bodies. Probably they never reflect, when discussing 
all the J9?^05 and cons in each item of the daily budget 
in the very ^presence of the carrier^ that they are 
virtually inviting him to sit in judgment, with them, 
on the personal and professional merits and demerits 
of his teacher; and that it is not in human nature 
for a judge to retain, very long, any profound re- 
spect for one daily arraigned at his bar: and conse- 
quently that they are doing their best, to destroy all 
that prestige of moral and intellectual superiority, on 
which the success of teaching so eminently depends. 

Yet this is not all, for there is still the irresistible 
conviction that, struggle as you will, all freedom of 
thought, all independence of action, the very inborn 
rights of woman are gone, and your sex remembered 
only for the impunity it secures to insult and aggression; 
the knowledge that you are bound to succumb, body 
and soul, life and limb, to the caprices of an ill-sorted, 
ill-informed, conflicting and ever vacillating community; 



254 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

that you are sold, past redemption, to a slavery, hopeless 
and helpless as the bondage of Siberian mines — that 
you have no rigJit to think your own thoughts, or with- 
hold the sacrifice of your own health or life, that you 
must forego all to which you cling, fritter away the fresh- 
ness and sheen from each gem of beauty, and worth ; 
temper " the thoughts that breathe, the words that 
burn," to the dull, cold ear of stupidity; speak when 
you would be silent, act when you would think; tame 
down all lofty thought, all soaring fancy, all noble aspi- 
ration; crush out the soul's deep thirst, its life-long 
yearning for advance^ for improvement^ and bind it 
down, with a chain of adamant, to the same "dull 
drudged lesson," the endless iteration and reiteration of 
the same stale, puerile commonplace ; and all for 
naught— ;/<9r haug.ht^ for what is gold to compensate for 
such torture as this? And it is this, oh yes it is this; 
that sends so many highly-gifted and accomplished wo- 
men, with better health and stronger nerves than mine, 
from the school-room to the mad -house. 

Yet the world, in their wisdom, never dream that all 
is not well ; they see no danger in forcing the o'ertasked 
brain to atone for the absence of all physical power, 
while the worn-out nerve is quivering with agony at the 
rustle of every leaf — nothing more remarkable than per- 
sonal, or sectional eccentricity, in the stammering tongue, 
the imperfect or forgotten word, the half-formed, or re- 
constructed phrase, the wandering thought and indisposi- 
tion, or inability to concentrate the reasoning faculties — 
the waning powers of self-control and consequent ir- 
repressible and undignified exhibition of every passing 
emotion ; the frequent and startling alternation from the 
deepest depression to the wildest and most unnatural 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 255 

levity; oh no, they see no premonitory symptoms in all 
this ; but when the fearful verdict " insanity^^ has once 
gone forth, O then they can " reraeraber ^' to have seen 
" long ago " — in every independent act, every warm and 
generous feeling, every brilliant coruscation of wit and 
high poetic thought, that soared above the medium of 
their own cent-per-cent., matter-of-fact perceptions — "^^^^- 
mistakable indications'^'^ of alienated intellect! And 
even men, who should he physiologists, will not hesi- 
tate to assign as cause some trivial incident, which the 
veriest tyro ought to blush not to know, must have 
been the efiect ! 

You may think I look altogether on the dark side ; 
but if the picture ever had any bright one, I'm sure it 
must have been worn out before my day, for I never 
could find it, or, if I ever did, my experience for the 
last two years has entirely efiaced the impression. 

The first of these was spent a little North of Ked 
river, in Arkansas; the second a little South of it, in 
Louisiana, In the former place I did achieve a whole 
five-months' session in the course of eight or nine ; in 
the latter, 1 repeated the experiment, but failed most sig- 
nally, after dragging, as I had often done before, my 
enfeebled frame, and tottering limbs and quivering 
nerves, to the scene of their daily torture, by literally 
crawling up stairs, or over stiles, like an infant, for 
weeks in succession. And very glad was I, eventually, 
to put long miles and broad rivers between me and the 
scene of so much mental and physical sufiering, at the 
expense of a watch — the second disposed of for similar 
reasons within the last five years — intending, hereafter, 
to be as circumspect as was the steamboat captain, 
who, on being asked "if he ran up Red river," replied, 



256 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

" No; that he intended to keep within the pale of civil- 
ization : " not but that I found some of the most agree- 
able people I ever did meet West of the Mississippi, (in 
Louisiana, more particularly ;) but then they are too 
much like " angels' visits, few and far between." 

Now^ I flatter myself, I know precisely the feelings 
of an escaped galley-slave, balancing the horrors of 
impending starvation with the mortal agony of a com- 
pulsory return to his chain and his oar. And you see, 
by the inclosed,* that the proverbial mischance of lite- 
rary efibrt is henceforth the only " reed " on which I 
lean, to preserve me from perishing of want in a land 
whose applause falls in showers of gold on every species 
of talent that ministers to the corporeal senses ! God 
only knows how I have toiled and suffered, how sternly 
and unflinchingly I have crucified all my native tastes 
and early habits, to avoid such a contingency as this ; 
how, once and again, I have almost secured the means 
of obviating its occurrence, then been compelled to 
watch, in bitterness of spirit, as gold (the true sybilline 
leaf, that increases in value as it diminishes in propor- 
tion,) slowly, but surely, glided from my grasp, leaving 
me, on each recurring occasion, more helpless, homeless, 
destitute and desolate than ever. 

Forgive me, should your mind chance to revert sadly, 
in future, to the position of one hitherto far removed, in 
all probability, by time and distance, from your thoughts 
and sympathies ; for I would not willingly cast the 
shadow of my own evil doom over the brightness of 
your fairer destiny. 

I have, as you are probably aware, resided for most 

* Notice and Prospectus of this work. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 257 

of the last fifteen years in Tennessee — fifteen centuries 
more like it seems. I wonder what people inean when 
they say "time seems so sJiort ; bnt it, to me, has lost 
much of its former charms ; for the dear old Virginia 
lady, who was about the only mother I ever knew, had 
(with many of her beloved children,) gone away to her 
home in heaven before I left ; so I concluded to arrange 
preliminaries in this state, partly because it was less 
expensive of access than one more remote, but more 
because I knew the Masonic fraternity (on whom I 
have a lien in right of my father,) to be unusually 
popular and extensive in Mississippi. Now don't faint, 
or turn pale in the least : I only design them — in case 
they are sensible — the honor of accepting their patron- 
age and favorable auspices ; but I'd like to see the first 
living mortal, stranger or relative, that would dare say 
^'' Pensionnaire^^ to me ; though, if you chance to know 
any seventh-heaven clairvoyant, who can work his will 
unrestricted by time and space, I'll thank you to bespeak 
his good offices to the extent of making me insensible 
to the wants and weaknesses of poor, frail humanity, 
for some time to come. Cause why — a gold watch not 
being exactly a gold mine you know, its proceeds can- 
not be expected to last forever ; and — it being one of 
the indefeasible properties of all great bodies to move 
slow — some of the worshipful members in the Empire 
State, who, according to the best of my recollection, 
were formerly nowise remarkable for developments of 
any kind, have of late become such inconceivably great 
men, that it wouldn't comport with their dignity at all 
to examine a record and make out a certificate within 
less than six or eight months after they had promised to 
do so half as many different times I 



258 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

But what a blessed thing it is to be confiding — and 
pertinacious and tenacious, too, as any Senior Wrangler 
or the musk of a Yankee's self-conceit — for otherwise I 
might suspect that all the marvelous fine things re- 
ported, ever since I could remember, about the jprompt 
and efficient attention always given, in case of need, to 
the representative of a deceased brother, must have hap- 
pened during Munchausen's travels in Gulliver's Island, 
or away back in the dark ages, before the world had 
outgrown its baby-clothes and got beyond leading- 
strings. The urchin has cut his eye-teeth now though, 
and got quite shrewd enough, too, to fool himself, if not 
his Maker, into a belief of his own entire willingness 
to discharge all obligation, to the spirit and letter, while 
taking special good care to ignore its existence in every 
case possible. If, however, I find, upon better enlight- 
enment — that is to say, when the mountain has come to 
Mahomet — that this compliment is private property, on 
which the grand circle, as a whole, have no rightful 
lien, I do hereby promise to make it over in fee simple 
to the original legatees instanter ! * . 

*Well, it is so assigned and secured — to the exclusion, at least, of 
the Mississippi segment — this day and date of the year of grace, fifty- 
one. And I do hope and trust I have found the exception at last, for 
I'm sure I never yet did love "a tree or flower^'but 'twas the first to 
fade away;" and, if decency didn't forbid, should expect the " ancient" 
and universal, immutable and inscrutable, to convert an " open Sesame" 
into a bar-sinister the moment it was seen in my hands. But, " nous 
verrons," as Father Ritchie says. — Vicksburg, Oct. 6. 

And, sure enough, they have, (I humbly ask pardon of all the other 
disfranchised therefor;) and then try to palaver, and "make be- 
lieve" it's a mere matter of latitude, or some other vagary! I know 
better, if they don't : it's all owing to me, and nothing and nobody 
else ; and it's astonishing how savans will keep groping in moonshine 
and electricity for solutions right under their nose, and palpable as 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 259 

Aside from that accorded by the husband of an old 
friend, the most efficient aid given to my enterprise, 
thus far, has resulted from a casual rencontre with a 
young friend from De Soto, Louisiana ; and there being 
no pretty sister, daughter, or niece in the case, his cour- 
tesy can be ascribed to nothing less than "the inborn 
chivalry" of a gentleman "to the manor born." So I 
say, God bless the Yirginians, Kentuckians, and Caro- 
linians, wherever they sojourn: they seem to have a 
noble and manly self-reliance on their own ability to 
recognize and appreciate rank and worth w^ierever it 
may be found, without extraneous aid. Perhaps it is 
from the electric thrill of some responsive chord within; 
for, sure I am, they exhibit far less than some others of 
that spirit which, by suspecting all, '^coiivicts at least 
one^'' if we may rely upon the testimony of that uncom- 
promising moralist. Dr. Samuel Johnson: an ijpse dixit^ 
by-the-by, which I w^ould most respectfully recommend 
to the consideration of those who seem never to have 

their own stupidity ! / was, undoubtedly, Columbus in 1492 ; ihaVs 
why the magnet turned from the Pole ; and Sir John Franklin miglit 
have come home long ago, (half roasted to a cinder,) if " Government " 
had only set me up in the ice trade, instead of fitting out the Advance 
and Rescue, with that pestilent surgeon, who couldn't be easy till he'd 
got a pre-emption to disqualify and exclude all authors from Terra 
Incog., as well as log — " bad luck to him." Not the first one of us now, 
can ever send a pair of nice young "lovyers" there to cool off their 
passion durijag the honeymoon, but he'll have somebody wrapping u^ 
their ears in old newspapers! And if I were to draw up a glowing 
description of the Palace, Park, Gardens, and Royal Demesnes of King 
Eidolon, in the last found Nebulae, Uncle Sam w^ould be certain to stick 
a Kane in it, and have it surveyed, and mapped, and geologized, and 
cantoned off into thriving young Republics, (modeled exactly on the 
pattern of Brother Jonathan's.) long before I could find a publisher 
discerning enough to appreciate the work. " Everything con TRA-ries 
me," — what shall I do? — Lexington, 1852. 



260 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

properly digested St. Paul's sententious lecture on good 
morals and good manners, namely, "Let no man think 
of himself more highly than he ought to think, but each 
esteem another better than himself." 

Speaking of Dr. Johnson, reminds me that a reputed 
relative of his was the last teacher of my acquaintance 
sent to the lunatic asylum; but do not understand me 
to insinuate that I think the possession of any com- 
mendable quality restricted to the natives of any par- 
ticular section. Such an idea, beside being manifestly 
absurd, would be extremely unjust to many of my best 
and dearest friends ; all I mean is, that whenever I find 
pretty nearly my heaii ideal of a perfect lady or gentle- 
man, I am also very apt to find, soon or late, that the 
individual was, in a great majority of instances, origi- 
nally from one or the other of the States above-men- 
tioned. 

Now, don't betake yourself forthwith to the presence 
of your loving caro — to whom, nevertheless, present my 
cousinly compliments — that is, if you think proper ; for 
I dare say he is very much like the residue of lords 
paramount, sufiiciently addicted to taking airs of various 
kinds upon himself any way, and might fancy I had 
cooked up this nice little dish of "blarney" for his 
special delectation, (or more probable disgust,) or in- 
tended it as an ironical hit at the palpable _^<zry€m^^5m 
of the F. F. Y. assumption. Either would be wide of 
the mark, though I do think it a pity we can't have 
some of the aforesaid statesmen to modify the character 
of the pretty Chinese colony in this vicinity, and don't 
think it would be much amiss for the next legislature, 
after they have' affiliated Mexico, annexed Cuba, and 
dissolved the Union — and it seems just now as if they 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 261 

were not like to lack provocation to do either, or all, if 
they could — to wind up by conferring a new name on 
the shire town of Madison; for Canton is well known 
to be a free port, and these celestials are in no dangei 
of entertaining "angels nnawares." 

I made their town my original place of destination, 
little dreaming that with " letters" to prominent citizens, 
I should be unable to secure a temporary home among 
" the generous^ loarm-hearted Mississippians^"^^ of whom 
I had so often heard — so long at least as I had means to 
pay for it — but it seems I reckoned for once without my 
host. I don't mean "mine host" of the hotel, who, I 
do suspect, has somehow stumbled on that anomalous 
piece of antiquity, denominated the Golden Rule ; though 
I hope the incident will never transpire to the injury of 
his reputation for ordinary savoir faire among his own 
fellow-townsmen. 

As for these, their houses looked very much as if con- 
structed of the usual materiel; but we all know how 
ingenious are the nephews and nieces of the " Sun and 
Moon;" and no doubt it was all a sham, and they were 
every one India-rubber, made to expand or contract at 
pleasure. Provisions, too, rose most astonishingly in 
the market — don't you think the dealers ought to pat- 
ronize me extensively therefor — so, though no cormorant, 
I was fain to decamp; and should the chances and 
changes of life ever call me to the Celestial Empire 
again, shall announce myself as the identical Mrs. Ann 
Royal, redivivius, (she is dead is she not?) who once 
held the good city of Washington and the sovereigns' 
viceroys in such commendable awe. 

Possibly they didn't relish the idea of having "a 

chiel amang them takin' notes;" but "fa'th I'll prent 

22 



262 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

them," though sure to get nothing but '''' jparticular jessy'''' 
for my pains. Perhaps you don't appreciate the graphic 
elegance of this ominous Southwestern ism ; but it means, 
I take it, graduating through a course of "sprouts," 
with a few extra touches by way of diploma. 

I don't charge much for this contribution to slang 
dictionary, but expect the unbounded gratitude of all 
critics for the choice honnes houches provided for their 
delectation. Much joy do I wish them of their dainty 
repast, and a nice time they wdll have of it; for here 
have 1 been these dozen years sharpening myself up into 
vulnerable points all over, for their better convenience, 
and there's only one little drawback to their promised 
"feast of fat things." I've grown so exceedingly thin 
during the process, that unless they are capital sharp- 
shooters, there is some little danger of missing the mark. 
But they have only to follow the directions of the re- 
nowned Mrs. Glass, ^^ first catch the game^^ and then 
there's nothing to do but hash and slash, and baste and 
broil to their heart's content; for here's plenty of sauce 
Tnalafpert already prepared to their hands. 

So just set to, Mr. Dennis; w^e of the South don't 
stand for trifles, and ought to be very proud of your 
notice, if it does come in the form of a castigation. 
And w^hen you get us tamed down to the polished level 
of your own elegant commonplace, there will be another 
splendid chance to show oft', by declaiming about "the 
want of the beauty of the fitness of things ; " and we 
wouldn't miss that diatribe upon any account, and hope 
you'll remember it takes a great deal of attic salt to 
keep some things from spoiling! "Just as a friend, 
though," we'd advise you not to make too heavy a run 
upon your vituperative epithets at the first dash ; not 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 263 

that there's the slightest danger of the stock's giving 
out, but because so many crabbed, ugly words might be 
hard to swallow, in case you had to ^^ craivjish,^^ (there's 
another ism for you,) as Jeffries did after Byron lashed 
him into good behavior. And beside, it must be pro- 
voking, very, to see how some wrong-headed, contume- 
lious, self-willed authors, (like Dickens, for example,) 
e'en will go on publishing despite your fatherly admo- 
nitions and remonstrances ; and how the wor\di just will 
go on reading — hardly stopping long enough to say, "I 
wonder you will be talking there, Signor — nobody marks 
you" — till, finally, you have to stuff your wise critique 
in your own pocket, and chime in with the undisccrning 
vulgar, just as if you really had caught, at last, some 
little faint echo of "that music to whose tone the com- 
mon pulse of man keeps time;" though you know very 
well, all the while, that it's a great deal more like the 
melody of an imprisoned porker than the "music of the 
spheres." 

Now, this may be a very shameless and unblushing 
avowal of bad taste, deserving the knout, bastinado, 
decapitation, and all sorts of refined, delicate penance 
befitting the Procrustes of high literati to inflict; how- 
ever, the tiara is "at discount now," so 1 don't mind 
confessing — all "under the rose," you know — that really 
I am not infallible, have been mistaken in the course of 
my life, didn't always know "the cow would eat up the 
grindstone," and don't always feel as much like anathe- 
matizing these vernacular mesalliances^ as a regular 
ofiset of "Rose, Thistle, and Shamrock" should. Most 
Mississippi-valley -isms, like all other isms — cockneyisms 
in particlar — are, to be sure, silly, pointless, low-lived 
and disgusting, beyond the power of legitimate adjec 



264 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

tives to express; but that they are, without exception, 
like the old lady's " backer-spittin' beaux, all ^lomina- 
hle^ ^hominabler^ 'hominablest^^'' I, for one, beg leave to 
deny. There is, now and then, one, evincing so much 
rapidity of combination, raciness and vigor of thought, 
that, to my ear at least, is far less grating than the eter- 
nal ^^liadnH ouglits^^ and '•^ said he^s^^ and ''^ said Ps^^^ 
by which some who arrogate "those seats on high" 
rarely fail, "/ guess,^^ to betray their Blue-Law origin 
and Pilgrim culture, long after they have turned their 
ba'^ks upon Down-East and adventurized toward the 
setting sun. But then, you know, I always was rather 
restive under the arbitrary, nonsensical and ever-shift- 
ing exactions of etiquette ; and now, am just poet, cynic, 
censor or savage enough to laugh or sneer more than 
ever at the arduous and transparent humbuggery of 
highly artificial life. And if there is one pretension 
I do detest more than another, it is the affectation of 
would-be gentility and sentimentality, or the over- 
strained fastidiousness of personal, social or literary 
sybarism. 

But, avaunt, ye horrors, " gorgons, and chimeras 
dire ; " and — mercy on us, what an episode ! For- 
tunately, you understand " the laws and statutes in 
such cases made and provided" too well to expect any 
apology for a diversion allowed to pastoral, didactic and 
other prosy writers, (though, really, I did forget you 
were not Evelyn or Clara;) but, ?iHmporte^ I shall go 
on all the same, for it has just struck me how materially 
I have derogated from the dignity of a certain '^ city^'' 
by calling it a town. It was, for a long time, a great 
mystery to me why every little village here in the South- 
West should voluntarily encumber itself with onerous 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 265 

corporation expenses; but 1 know now: it's because 
everybody knows that everybody lacks time, energy or 
public spirit enough to keep the highways and byways 
in his own immediate vicinity wholesome and passable, 
unless backed by the stringent ordinations of a regular 
board of police. They do threaten that city (and even 
this more remotely and indirectly,) with a railroad ; and 
there is so much interest expressed on the subject just 
now, that I shouldn't much wonder if, in process of time, 
they accomplished the object — of getting a charter; after 
which the fever will, it is presumed, prove an intermit- 
tent, as usual, so that the China-wares and Hyaus and 
Dryads need apprehend no further danger. 

Jesting and nonsense aside, it is fortunate that I was 
virtually compelled to come here ; though less conspicu- 
ous and important in some respects, it is a village much 
more " after my own heart" than the other, being a post 
town, easy of access, and combining city and country 
most delightfully — the very place, in short, for a female 
seminary ; and they seem to have a very good one, by 
the way, only they will do their endeavor to make it 
ridiculous by calling it a college.* Some of the houses 
are, it is true, a little on the shingle-palace order ; but 
then they have plenty of space ; and, if clearing out 
the underbrush from the groves would be no special dis- 
advantage, it certainly is very refreshing to feel that 
you are within call of several agreeable neighbors, and 
just as effectually screened from their optical and invol- 
untary surveillance as if they were miles away. I have 
been here but a few short weeks, yet find myself recoil- 

* Possibly this habit orignated in a wish to secure the immunities 
conferred by college charter ; but, now that Brandon College has step- 
ped over into Madison, it will, it is to be hoped, fall heir to the name. 



266 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

ing, almost ungraciously, from the slightest allusion to 
my ultimate departure. Indeed, I begin to feel that a 
certain genus of the class Mississippian is not altogether 
extinct, though I failed — ^probably for want of Diogenes' 
lantern — to find very many specimens in the adjoining 
town. 

This doesn't look much like the "Zm^" promised you 
at the beginning, and all in good faith too, for I actually 
commenced with the laudable intention of producing, for 
once, a nice, genteel, lady -like little letter, of the most 
approved dimensions ; but you see the old "counteract- 
ing principle" was too much for me, (I do believe I'm 
haunted by the ghost of a Congressman "done to death" 
by that savage Gag-law ;) and now here the thing is, 
grown, w^ithout any "malice prepense" on my part, 
into — there's no telling how many quartos I But you 
know the urchin said "Ag didnH wMthle — it wMthled 
ithelf ;'''' so you'll please to consider that this ''^ wrote 
itself ^'^ and never say cacoethes scrihendi to me : I tell 
you it's no such thing — I never did like to write in my 
life; I write just because I can't help it, (as anybody 
may see by all these interlineations ;) for when my pen 
"takes the bit in its teeth," and starts ofi* in hot haste 
after perpetual motion, it's no more use trying to stop it 
than there would be the steeds of Apollo.* 

I dare say you think it would be much likelier to 
achieve the object, if it would only bide quietly at 

*Just so! The thing's all explained now, many thanks to Dr. 
Samuel Taylor and the last Boston Medical and Surgical Journal — 
Feb. 1, 1852. The writei-'s no more responsible than " a sucking 
dove ;" it's all owing to " detached vitalized electricity," alias ** them 
spirits" and their spite because they can't, and she don't, always do a 
fair share of talking. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 267 

home; and so, perhaps, it might, if "Circumstance, 
that unspiritual god and miscreator," wouldn't be for- 
ever setting me "(Z ganging.'''^ But I know he will — 
the spiteful wretch! — and have jet to receive the very 
first letter ever forwarded (after I had once left a place,) 
by any of Uncle Sam's agents; so, please be expeditious 
with your reply, and never mind stopping to ]3repare 
me a strait-jacket, for I have taken up an idea the 
things are not at all becoming, and am quite certain the 
common sacque is full ugly enough to satisfy any rea- 
sonable mortal. 

Don't forget, though, to say whether you think my 
nomme deplume^ (and jt??^c> tem.^ euphonious or not. I 
don't insist, though, that you shall write yourself down 
among the half-enlightened who object ; for it strikes 
me that Brother Jonathan must have been committing 
petit larceny on a grand scale, for a long time, to very 
little purpose, if, after all the foreign literature he has 
stolen, the whole "free and enlightened" haven't found 
out how very common it is for princes, and other high 
nobility, to drop their names and titles, and travel all 
ovei the world incog, for years and years if they like ! 
And if all the old women in corduroys and dimities, 
who ever did predict that a slice of green cheese from 
the mountains in the moon would throw old mother 
Earth into convulsions, were to fatigue themselves by a 
desperate attempt to look wise and admonitory on the 
occasion, it doesn't follow, of course, that I should set 
about getting up another edition of Esop's long-eared 
biped, who undertook to ride, drive and carry the other 
donkey to market, and lost him for his pains, as any 
one would well deserve to do who could be diverted 
from his own course (even if it were not the very best,) 



268 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

by every self-installed Mentor with " the grand talents" 
for enacting patron on the easy terms of dispensing that 
cheap commodity called advice. My incognito, if it 
does nothing else, will, at least, make an admirable 
divining rod to detect innate vulgarity under all the 
elaborate gloss of artificial refinement ; for who that 
would not "near the ear" to a key-hole, or tamper with 
a seal, could ever muster impudence and meanness 
enough to turn round and say ^''What is itf^^ when 
told that a name was temporarily suppressed ? 

And further, tJie jpatronizing one's equals or hetters 
being — according to Chateaubriand, Rochefocault, or 
somebody else — the Sauce-Robert to all human sym- 
pathy, I don't wish to see all major-minor and upper- 
tendom perfectly overwhelmed with obligation, as they 
might be, if not content with submitting to be viseed^ 
examined, cross-examined, pitied and advised in pro- 
pria persona I should undertake, heedlessly or with 
malice aforethought, to drag my father's name and the 
dignity of all spinsterhood (that of the Madams can't be 
compromised, for the experiment's been tried), through 
the obloquy of such an utterly obnoxious and altogether 
detestable ordeal ; consequently I don't choose to specu- 
late so extensively in the doubtful stock of republican 
gratitude. 

And that's very humane of me I'm sure, for excess of 
felicity is said to be dangerous, and might prove fatal to 
some self-constituted Parish Beadle of community, hap- 
pening to indulge a little too freely in the bliss of asking 
a lady^ seen doing what no honest decent woman ever 
would except "upon compulsion," " ?y she has no 
home, husband, children, father, mother, brother, sister," 
and so on ad infinitum^ " to provide for her ?" It's 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 269 

such a civil ^ gentlemanly way of saying — "I should 
like of all things to commit you to the stocks as a com- 
mon vagrant, or send you to the Treadmill as a sus- 
pected swindler, instead of advising you to go on^ or 
hacW^* — such a special treat, to see by the quivering 
lip, how easily you can plant your talons in the heart- 
strings, how securely you can go on whetting your ugly, 
crooked beak on a naked nerve, without so much as 
giving the soul a single drop of chloroform to begin 
with, that it's "a wonder," all keen-sighted fiscal pur- 
veyors don't pounce upon such a dear delight of life, as 
subject matter of revenue. Ill-natured wights might 
say, it was because they chose to tax other people's 
necessaries, and enjoy their own luxuries gratis ; but I 
wouldn't be so sarcastic for the world. 

As for the new prefix, it's far more common and 
therefore less distingue than my own, and clearly 
"honored by my use," so if / choose, I don't see that 
any one else has a right to protest; in a country where 
every second or third man you meet, hnoivs he was 
breveted major, colonel, or general on a steamboat-plank, 
or at some stage or railroad office. Moreover, I have 
divers of times, once rather recently, seen very pathetic 
jeremiads over feelings shocked and expectations disap- 
pointed, all because many English and most American 
Passees will look old (the graceless, disobliging crea- 
tures) "notwithstanding their girlish title," yet never 
have " the sense to follow the example" of a worthy 

* Where those very elegible points of topography, "On" and "Back," 
are, is past ray power to discover; though I have an idea that On, must 
be somewhere in the next new Planet, and Back, at the bottom of the 
old Cretan Labyrinth ; and yet, they may, perhaps, be in a mirage 
somewhere in Symmes' region. 

23 



270 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

lady, known to her own cotemporaries and our younger 
days as " Mrs. Hannah Moore :" though, to be sure, we 
of the more enlightened — who ought of course to per- 
form more extraordinary feats than anybody else — -have 
of late rejuvenated her back again, despite some eighty 
odd years, into pretty little Miss. The last writer, I 
believe, proposes to brevet all spinsters of a certain age, 
nolens volens^ on the ground that they might perhaps 
" pass for very agreeable and even good-looking, middle- 
aged, or elderly ladies," if the "incongruous Miss^^ 
wasn't forever " conjuring up," in startling contrast, 
" some bright vision of youth and beauty." Well, if 
they will, I suppose they will, if we are all ever so 
barbarously inclined, so one may as well submit grace- 
fully to what is inevitable. But quid pro quo and if I 
can't be allowed the " concatenation accordingly," that 
same submission is out of the question. Only think 
now, of putting a dissyllable before a whole handful of 
consonants, all clumped together any how, and nearly 
as ugly as Guelph — no wonder we've got so little ear 
for music left; and why all our mothers and grand- 
mothers didn't prefer being Miss-ed to the end of time 
(like Yankee madams in lower scoredom), rather than 
tolerate such a perfectly unbearable, ear-grating juxta- 
position of sounds, I'm sure I can't divine. Let my 
Chesterfieldian friends, who loill insist on considering 
me one of St. Paul's "widows indeed," look to it; for 
I'm not certain but it's " actionable^^ as assault and 
battery on the auricular nerve ! 

Now that's what I call "defining my position" a 
merveille^ and wouldn't it make the Sovereignty's Pos- 
ture-makers, attitudinizing expositors and " human 
two-legged political dictionaries," "with inward envy 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 271 

groan, to find themselves so very much exceeded, in 
their own way," by an unofficial amateur ? I only wish 
it were half as easy telling what I ever was sent into 
this world for at all — not certainly to gratify any gro- 
veling, earth-ward propensity of mine, for I never re- 
member the day I didn't regret being here ; and most 
assuredly not to refute the anti -republican idea of heredi- 
tary transmission, or confirm the flattering theory of 
modern degeneracy, for an oak, I take it, is not an osier, 
if it does happen to be uprooted and its foliage 
scattered to the four winds of heaven. So if half the 
illuminati, rank and file, were to insist that they saw 
"no cause," or didn't appreciate the motive; one of 
OUT amiably vacillating race, could of course do no less, 
thany^^^ sorry, very sorry, they should all be so "right 
royally fat in the head," and say^ with one honest, obsti- 
nate and impassible enough to have been cousin german 
to the blood, " I have found you a reason, I am not 
obliged to find you an understanding also." 

Don't be the least alarmed at all these mysterious- 
looking hieroglyphics — I am not writing Polkas, Ballets, 
and sky-kicking flourishes " at all at all ;" only a regular 
"skrimmage" between my familiar and your good 
genius, come to the rescue in the shape of a huge 
candle-fly: so "God prosper the right," and here's much 
love to yourself, a kiss for the wee coz., and a gentle 
hint, that, if not too much trouble, a sketch of the 
family portraits from " papa" down, would much oblige 
your isolated, but 

Afiectionate Cousin, 

Louise Elemjay. 



272 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

THE HOME FEVER, 

Kecollection of the West Indies, by A. J. Pickering. 

A pearl of (hejlrst water, that should not be tossed back into the sea of obli- 
vion, because the owner left, perhaps, nothing else of its kind, and the 
finder has nothing to equal its value. 

We sate in a green verandah's shade, 

Where the verd-ant " Tje-tye" twined 
Its tendrils around us, and made 
A harp for the cool sea-wind. 
That came with its low wild sound at night, 
Like a sigh that is breathing of past delight. 

And that wind, with its low sweet breath had come, 

From the Island groves away ; 
And the waves, like wand'rers returning home, 
To the banks rolled wea-ri-ly : 
And the conch's far home-call, the parrots cry, 
All told that the Sabbath of night was nigh. 

We sate alone in that trellised bower, 
And gazed o'er the darkening deep, 
And the holy calm of that twilight hour 
Came over our hearts like sleep ; 
And we thought of the banks and "bonny braes," 
That had gladdened our childhood's careless days. 

And he, the friend by my side that sate. 

Was a boy whose path had gone 
Along the flowers and fields of joy, that fate, 
Like a mother, had smiled upon ; 
But alas for the time when our hope hath wings, 
And mem'ry to grief like a syren sings ! 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 273 

His home had been on the stormy shore, 

Of Albyn's mountain land ; 
His ear was tuned to the breaker's roar, 
And he loved the bleak sea-strand ; 
And the torrent's din, and the howling breeze, 
Had all his soul's wild sympathies. 

They had told him tales of the sunny lands, 

That rose over Indian seas. 
Where the rivers wandered o'er golden sands. 
And strange fruit bent the trees ; 
They had wiled him away from his childhood's hearth, 
With its tones of love and its voice of mirth. 

Now that fruit and the river gems were near. 

And he strayed 'neath a tropic sun ; 
But the voice of promise, that thrilled in his ear 
At that early time, w^as gone ! 
And the hopes he had chased mid the dreams of night, 
Had melted away like the fire-fly's light. 

Oh I have watched him gazing long. 

Where the home-bound vessels lay; 
Cheating sad thoughts w^ith some old song. 
And striving to drive his tears away. 
And well I knew that that weary breast. 
Like the dove of the Deluge, pined for rest. 

There was "a worm i' the bud" wdiose fold 

Defied the leech's art, 
Consumption's hectic plague-spot told 

The tale of a broken heart. 



274 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

The boy knew he was dying — that is sleep, 
To hearts that linger but to watch and weep ! 

He died, but mem'ry's thrilling power, 

With its ghost-like train had come. 
To the dark heart's ruin, at that last hour. 
And he murmured, "home, home^ home!' 
And his spirit passed with that happy dream, 
Like a bird in the track of a bright sunbeam. 

Oh talk of life to the trampled flower, 

Of light to the falling star, 
Of glory to him who in victory's hour 
Lies cold on the field of war ; 
But ye mock the exile's heart when ye tell 
Of aught but the home where it pines to dwell. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 275 



ADDENDA 

BETWEEN SUSPENSION AND RESUMPTION OF WORK. 

EVELYN, 

Written on hearing^ seven months after date^ of her 
Decease^ Aug, ISth, 1851. 

The last, the last, the last! Alone^ 

And ''darkness visible" around; 
Night's voices strange and eerj grown, 

And life a vague and mocking sound. 

Half death, half life, how vain the gaze 
For anchors cast in time's wild stream ; 

It cannot pierce the gath'ring haze 

That shrouds earth's long and fevered dream. 

It sees no smile of dajs gone bj. 

Gleaming above life's sullen Avave ; 
What once was hope is now a sigh — 

Wingless and blind she needs a grave ! 

****** 
I know full well why ills betide, 

And disappointment mars my schemes — 
I've lost the angel from my side, 

The spirit-counsel from my dreams. 

1 never deemed that soothing tone 

Again would bless my waking ear, 
But ever at th' Eternal throne, 

I knew it pleaded for me here ! 



S76 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

That fervent prayer, averting ill, 
That earnest love, invoking care, 

For husband, child and sister, still 

The lone, lone heart, but ill could spare. 

I hear a husband's lonely wail, 
I hear an orphan's bitter moan ; 

And wander down life's dreary vale, 
Alone, alone ^ oh God hoio lone ! 

"We may not soothe each other's grief, 
We may not wipe each other's tear ; 

Our Father God, bring thou relief, 
And bind the hearts left broken here ! 

Louisville, Ky., March 2ith, 1852. 



"A L'OUTRANCE." 

Indorsed^ (after second perusal^ three raonths froin 
date^ on notice of susj)ension and rather cool ad- 
vice to forego resumption. 

I HAVE faith in thee yet, my destiny's star, 
High hope and a trust that abides evermore; 

The crag may be steep and the eyrie afar — • 
The eagle shall yet to its pinnacle soar ! 

His plume may be reft and his heart may be cold, 
For the chain that still chafes hath galled him full long ; 

But his spirit is brave, and never of old 

Were his pinion and glance more daring and strong. 



LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 277 

Oh child of the sun, half- buried in clay ! 

Oh vision of light that upward would soar! 
Oh proud bird of Jove, one spring and aw^ay — 

Thy home it is high, evermore^ evermore! 

Dark, dark lies the shadow on future and past. 
Yet music still sleeps in the harp's latest string ; 

^olian tones may be wrung from the blast — 
On, on^ tameless bird of the poor broken wing ! 

Disaster may crush, never conquer the brave ! 

The day is not lost wdiile the cry is advance! 
And proudly the triumph rings back from the grave, 

•'No VICTOR IN LIFE, I havc warred ^ a V oiitrance P'' 

April 21th. 



PASS ON. 
A Dirge for ihe Mighty. 

Banner, tramp, peal and booming knell, 
Night's sable pomp round setting sun ; 

A nation's pride and sorrow tell, 
Yet genius lives — ^life is hegun ! 

Pass on. 

Pass on — ^earth has no more to give. 

Youth's sun has set. Time's brow is wan ; 

The honors, meeds for wdiich men live, 

Thou'st won them, worn them, pass thou on. 

Pass on. 



278 LETTERS AND MISCELLANIES. 

Title and mace of little worth, 

Thy country gives to meaner mind; 

To thee, such power as few on earth 
Had wielded nobly for their kind. 

Pass on. 

ISTever such hearts as clung to thee, 
Shrined in such love a master name ; 

Never such page as thine shall be. 
May time efface — thou art for fame. 

Pass on. 

Faction its breath hath idly spent, 

Thy stately tread hath onward passed ; 
" All's well ! " Thou hast thy monument — • 
The stars, thy fitting pall at last ! 

Pass on. 

All time is thine — thy name a spell — ■ 

An aegis to a world is given ! 
Life gave thee toil, death rest — ''tis well — 

Earth can no more — God gives thee heaven. 

Pass on. 

Lexington, Ky., July lOth, 1852. 



THE END. 



MOORE & ANDERSON'S PUBLICATIONS 

P U L T E'S 

HOMCEOPATHIC DOMESTIC PHYSICIAN 

ILLUSTKATED WITH ANATOMICAL PLATES. 
3>r i n 1 1] ij; I) n 6 a n b . 

" A very lucid and useful hand-book. Its popular language, and exclu- 
sion of difficult terminology are decided recommendations. Its success is 
good evidence of the value of the work." — N. Y. Times. 

" This appears to be a very successful publication. It has now reached 
its third edition, which is a revised and enlarged one; and we learn from the 
title page that eight thousand copies have been published. Various addi- 
tions have been made to the Homoeopathic directions, and the anatomical 
part of the work has been illustrated with engravings. The work has re- 
ceived the approbation of several of our most eminent practitioners." — 
Evening Post. 

" A nicely printed volume, and it appears to be a finished one of its kind. 
It embraces all possible directions for the treatment of diseases, with elab- 
orate descriptions of symptoms, and an abridged Materia Medica." — Boston 
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" It is very comprehensive and very explicit." — N. Y. Evangelist. 

" Though not at present exclusively confined to the medical profession, we 
have been consulted, during the past year, in some fifty or sixty cases, 
some of which, according to the opinion of the faT-sighted and sagacious, 
were very bad and about to die, and would die if trusted to Homoeopathy, 
and some were hopeless, which are now a wonder unto many in the change 
which the homoeopathic treatment alone effected. Now what of all this ? 
Why, just this, we have used Dr. Pulte's book for our Directory ; we have 
tested it as a safe counselor ; — and we say to our friends who have wished 
we would get up a book for them, just get Pulte's Domestic Physician and 
the remedies, and set up for yourselves," — Cattaraugus Chronicle. 

"I have recommended it to my patients as being — for conciseness, pre- 
cision, and practical utility — unsurpassed either in my native or adopted 
country." — Dr. Granger of St. Louis. 

" The plan and execution of Pulte's Homoeopathic Domestic Physician, 
render it in my opinion the best work of its kind extant for popular use. 

" ROBERT ROSMAN", M. D., 

"Brooklyn." 

"I have found, upon careful perusal, ' The Domestic Physician,' by Dr. 
Pulte, to be concise and comprehensive in its description of diseases, and 
accurate in tlie application of remedies; but its cliicf advantage over othei 
works of the same design, appears to me, to be the facility with which it is 
understood by the lay practitioner. I consider it a valuable and useful book 
of reference In domestic practice. The professional ability and extensive 
practical experience of the author, are alone sufficient recommendation for 
fts value. , A. COOKE HULL, M. D., 

76 State St., Brooklyn. 



MOORE, ANDERSON, & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



THREE GREAT TEMPTATIONS! 

Second Tliou.sasid in One Month!!! 

THE THREE GREAT TEMPTATIONS OF YOUNG MEN— 
With several Lectures addressed to Business and Professional 
Men: By Samuel W. Fisher. 1 vol. 12mo., pp. 336. ^1. 

CONTENTS. 

The Sirens, The Slayer of the Strong, 

The Wine-cup, The Play-house, 

The Card-table, The VTeb of Vice, 

The Christian Lawyer, The Path of Infidelity, 

The Mosaic Law of Usury, Commercial Morality. 

"A WORK of unusual attraction. We know not where to have s^ien these subjects so im- 
piessively, yet so properly and guardedly examined. Far above common-place specimens. 
They expose dangers of terrible imminence, and urge persuasions of incomparable impor- 
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"Able and often eloquent. * * * a. work which may well be put into the hands of 
youth just entering upon life." — JV. T. Observer. 

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"Paints in vigorous language the horrible conseqviences of y\ce..^''—zBoston Post. 

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" Dr. Fisher has spoken honestly and boldly. * * * Characterized by great energy 
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Cincinnati Cli. Herald. 

" Will do much good to that great class of young men who, reared in the country, are 
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"Worthy of an attentive perusal." — Pliiladdpliia Observer, 

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•• The teachings of the excellent preacher will be regarded as unfashionable, and so they 
are, but their value is no less certain, and their practical workings cannot but be vastly 
beneficial to the tone of society."— iV. Y. Dady Times. 



MOORE & ANDERSONS PUBLICATIONS. 
HUOH OTI1.I.ER'S NE^V BOOK. 

SCENES AND LEGENDS OF THE NORTH OF SCOTLAND. 
By Hugli Miller, author of " Footprints of the Creator." 1 vol. 
12 mo. Pp.436. Price $1. 

" A delightful book by one of the most delightful of living authors." — 
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"In this book Hugh Miller appears as the simple dramatist, reproducing 
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ume is rich in entertainment for all lovers of the genuine Scotch character." 
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the old faded superstitions of Scotland, make up the ' Scenes and Legends.' 
Purity of diction and thoughtful earnestness, with a vein of easy, half-con- 
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ded to these, in the present volume, are frequent touches of the most elegantly 
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Citizen. 

"This is a book which will be read by those who have read the other works 
of this distinguished author. His beautiful style, his powers of description, 
his pathos, his quiet humor and manly good sense would give interest to 
any subject. * * There is no part of the book that is not interesting." — 
Louisville Journal. 

" This is one of the most unique and original books that has been written 
for many years, uniting in a singularly happy manner all the charms of fic- 
tion to the more substantial and enduring graces of truth. The author is a 
capital story teller, prefacing what he has to say with no learned circumlo- 
cutions. We cannot now call to mind any other style that so admirably com- 
bines every requisite for this kind of writing, with the exception of that of 
his more illustrious countryman, Scott, as the one Hugh Miller possesses." — 
Columbian. 

" The contents of the book will be as instructive and entertaining, as the 
exterior is elegant and attractive. Hugh Miller writes like a living man, who 
has eyes, and ears, and intellect, and a heart of his own, and not like a gal- 
vanized skeleton, who inflicts his dull repetitions of what other men have 
seen and felt in stately stupidity upon their unfortunate readers. His obser- 
vation is keen, and his powers of description unrivaled. His style is like a 
mountain-stream, that flows on in beauty and freshness, iuiparting enliven- 
ing influences all around. His reflections, when he indulges in them, are 
just and impressive." — Christian Herald. 

" Tales so romantic, yet so natural, and told in a vein of unaff'ected sim- 
plicity and graphic delineation, rivaling Hogg and Scott, of the same land, 
will command avast number of admiring readers." — N. Y. Christ. Intel. 

" The interest of its facts far exceeds romance." — N. Y. Evan. 
"This book is worthy of a place by the side of the world-renowned vol- 
times which have already proceeded from the same pen." — Phil. Chronicle. 



MOORE &. ANDERSON'S PUBLICATIONS. 

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, to the accession of 

Queen Victoria, by Clark, edited by Prof. Moffat. New edi- 
tion with a series of Questions : 

"We know of no history of England of the same size, so calculated to 
give the reader a clear view of the complicated events of that country as the 
one before us." — N. Y. Christian Intelligencer. 

"As a compend to be always at hand, it is superior to any we have 
seen." — Christian Herald. 

" It will be found a useful summary of English History, combining the 
attractiveness of a narrative with the advantages of brevity and chronologi- 
cal definiteness." — N. Y. Courier ^ Enquirer. 

"An excellent outline of English History. It would make a capital text- 
book for our schools and colleges. It shows what the people, as well as the 
Kings of England, were doing." — Enquirer. 

"Just what it purports to be — a concise, clear, and methodical outline of 
English history, well adapted for school purposes and for young readers. 
It gives an easy narrative, and condenses all the principal facts in a way to 
convey much instruction, and at the same time to excite a desire for larger 
works." — N. Y. Evangelist. 

" This is one of the best and most useful text-books of history we have 
ever examined; and it would be difficult to decide whether it is entitled to 
greater commendation for its succinct and correct statement of facts or the 
terse and pure language in which it is written." — Lawrencehurg Register. 

"A SINGLE duodecimo volume, offering a brief narrative, a skeleton map, 
as it were, of the events of English history. It is neatly written, a good 
manual for instruction, and a useful book of reference in the library, when 
one has not the leisure to hunt a fact through larger works. The additions, 
exhibiting the progress of society, are judiciously made." — Literary World. 

"This is a clear, succinct, well-arranged history: it will be found very 
convenient for reference, and well adapted for the use of classes. "We com- 
mend it to all who wish for such a manual." — Ohio Jour, of Education. 

" This is a very comprehensive manual of English History. * * As a 
class-book in our schools it will be invaluable." — Hartford, Conn., Daily 
Times. 

"I HAVE never used a text-book with more satisfaction. * * * After 
using it nearly a year, I most confidently recommend it to the favorable 
attention of the public. Edward Cooper, 

President of Asbury Female College, New Albany, Indiana, 
formerly Editor N. Y. District School Journal. 



MOORE &, ANDERSONS PUBLICATIONS. 

SERVICE AFLOAT AND ASHORE: By Lieut. Raphael 

Semmes, U. S. N. 

"Unlike most similar works, this has no one hero, unless the natural 

Eartiality manifested for General Worth, may be considered as giving 
im a more marked elevation. It is neither adorned nor disfi^ureil with 
vul;gar anecdotes, to gratify a morbid love of tlie marvelous. The 
author writes right on : like a man who seeks to tell the truth. He crit- 
icises freely, whatever, high or low, his Sailor's eye deems worthy 
of comment. The intelligent reader will be pleased with the frankness 
and independence of the writer." — Newark Daily Advertiser. 

" He was early engaged in the blockade of the Mexican ports, and 
narrowly escaped death while in command of the Somers ; afterward, 
through fortuitous circumstances, he became a participant in, and 
observer of, nearlv all the stirring incidents in General Scott's; triumph- 
ant march to the Capital. * * * Lieut. Semmes possesses the fac- 
ulty of describing comprehensively, intricate occurrences, and seizes 
upon the prominent points of a field of battle, and presents them in such 
^manner that we are, as it were eye witnesses of the scene. We have 
rarely read a Avork, put forward with so little pretension, so intrinsi- 
cally valuable." — Mobile Daily Advertiser. 

" This is an elegant volume in every respect. * * * The work 
is written with great spirit, taste and ability. We have seen no work 
which has given us such vivid impressions of Mexican scenery and char- 
acter, or the events of General Scott's campaign. * * * He has thrown 
around the country, the people, and the expedition, a flood of illumina- 
tion from the historians of the Spanish march and conquests over the 
same regions. * * * The whole book inspires and sustains an inter- 
est of which the reader can form no opinion, unless he goes through, 
•which he will not fail to do, if he begins." — Southern Press. 

" Calm, deliberate, and intelligent, as he is, he cannot entirely con- 
ceal his personal preferences. He has, notwithstanding, furnished the 
very best book which that war has called forth, and, with remarkable in- 
telligence and skill, has interwoven the events of the war Avith saga- 
cious observations on the country and people." — Phil. Presbyterian. 

" A beautiful and very interesting volume, which, from the glances 
we have had time to give it, appears to be written with much ability, 
and to afford the reader a great deal of valuable information in regard 
to the war, the country, and the people." — Bait. American. 

" A most interesting addition to the literature of a war, odious in its 
origin, as it was triumphant in its progress, and happy in its conse- 
quences." — Puritan Recorder. 

" It is written with a spirit and life that commend it to perusal." — 
N. Y. Observer. 

" An accomplished writer as well as gallant officer." — Philadelphia 
Observer. 

" It is difiicult, after having commenced f'"S perusal, to lay it aside 
before finishing it." — Norfolk Daily Nezcs. 



MOORE & ANDERSON'S PUBLICATIONS. 
STRA^VBERRY A]\l> «RAPE CUI/IURE. 

MOORE & ANDERSON have ju.st published a small volume 
of one hundred and fort3^-tvvo pages, 12 mo., entitled The Cul- 
ture OF THE Grape and Wine Making, by Robert Buchanan, 
Member of the Cincinnati Horticultural Society, with an Ap- 
pendix, containing- Directions for the Cultivation of the 
Strawberry, by N. Longworth. Put up for sending by mail, 
in flexible cloth ; price 50 cents ; cloth, usual style, 62^ cents. 
This volume should be in the hands of every cultivator of these delicious 
fruits. For it embodies, in a compact and available form, the experience of 
accomplished and practical Horticulturists on subjects which have come di- 
rectly under their own observation for a long series of years. 

Of a former edition of "Buchanan on the Grape," published by the 
author, mainly for the convenience of himself and his friends, we subjoin 
a few 

NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 
Mr. Downing, in his Horticulturist says : " It deals more with facts, ac- 
tual experience, and observation, and less with speculation, supposition and 
belief, than anything on this topic that lias yet appeared in the United States. 
In other words, a man may take it, and plant a vineyard, and raise grapes 
with success. 

"Furnishes, in a small space, a very great amount of instructive informa- 
tion relative to the culture of the Grape. — Farmer's and Planter's Encyclo- 
pcsdia. 

""Will be found to convey the most opportune and valuable instruction, 
to all interested in the subject." — Neill's Fruit and Floiver Garden. 

MOORE & ANDERSON, Publishers, 

28 West Fourth Street, Cincinnati. 



BORROWS ROVING ADVENTURES; By Geo. Borrow, 
Author of "The Gipsies in Spain," " The Bible in Spain," etc. 
With fine portrait. Large type. Complete in one beautiful oc- 
tavo volume. Pp. 550. 

"He colors like Rembrandt, and draws like Spagnoletti." — Edinburgh 
Review. 

"The pictures are so new that those best acquainted with England will 
find it hard to recognize the land they may have traveled over." — National 
Intelligencer. 

" We could hardly sleep at night for thinking of it." — Blachoood, 



MOORE & ANDERSON'S PUBLICATIONS. 



" Will prove more generally useful, than any other work yet 
published on Geology." 
THE COURSE OF CREATION: By John Anderson, D. D., of New- 
burgh, Scotland. With a Glossary of Scientific Terms. 1 vol. l2mo. 
Illustrated, $1.25. 

' ' It treats chiefly of the series of rocks between the Alps and the Grampians. It is 
thoronghly scientific, but popular in its style, and exceedingly entertaining." — Zimi's 
Herald. 

" The author's style is clear and engaging, and his graphic descriptions seem to con. 
vey the reader at once into the fields of geological research to observe for himself." — 
Ohio Observer. 

"Another valuable contribution to the cause of truth and sound science. Its value 
is very much enhanced by the Glossary of Scientific Terms appended to it by the pub- 
lishers; for scarcely any one of the sciences has a larger number of terms with which 
ordinary readers are unacquainted than Geology." — Presbyterian of the West. 

" We commend the volume to all who would be instructed in the wonderful works 
of God. Chapters sucn as that on the "Economic History of Coal," and those on "Or- 
ganic Life" and "Physical and Moral Progression," have a special value for the stu- 
dent of divine Providence." — JV. Y. Independent. 

"Dr. Anderson is evidently well skilled in geology, and writes with a freedom 
and vivacity rivaled by no writer on the subject — except Hugh Miller." — Methodist 
Qiiarterlu Review. 

" This book is intended for general readers, — and such readers will be entertained 
by it, — but it is none tiie less thorough, and enters boldly into geological inquiry." — 
Boston Jldvertiser. 

" One of the most interesting and valuable works on Geology that we have ever met 
with. The author is a thoroughly scientific man; — but his scientific accuracy does not 
prevent the work from being understood by unscientific readers, it is a very readable 
book." — Louisville Journal. 

"By reading this book a person can obtain a general knowledge of the whole subject." 
— Western Star. 

* * * " Highly honorable to the writer and honorable to the publishers." — Boston 
Congregationalist. 

"This valuable volume was printed, is well as published, in Cincinnati; and it 
speaks as well for the literary society of that city, as for the enterprise of the publish- 
ers, and the taste and skill of the typographer." — Boston Post. 

" It is one of the significant signs of the times that we should be receiving a work 
like this, from a city that had scarcely an existence fifty years ago, got up in a style 
of elegance, that ranks it beside the finest issues of tiie publishing houses of Boston 
and New York. This fact, however, is but the smallest element of interest that attaches 
to the volume. It is one of those noble contributions lo natural science, in its relation 
to revealed religion, which in the writings of Hugh Miller, King, Brewster, and others 
have conferred new luster on the lionored name of Scotland. * • * The coticUiding 
chapter is a sublime questioning of Geology, as to the testimony she gives to a Creator, 
somewhat after the manner of the Scholia, to Newton's Principia, and is one of the 
noblest portions of the work." — Richmond, Fa., Watchman and Observer. 

"The science of Geology is attracting more and more attention. * * * That 
whicn was once a gigantic chaos, has become developed into a system beautifully sym- 
metrical, and infinitely grand." — Mercantile Courier, 



THE UNION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT AND THE C H U R C H , in the Conversion 
of the World. By Thomas W. Jenkyn, D. D. Second thousand. 12mo,. .cloth,. . . . ,85 

REPUBLICAN CHRISTIANITY; or, True Liberty, as exhibited in the Life, Pre- 
cepts, and Early Disciples of the Great Redeemer. By Rev. E. L. Magoon, Author of 
" Proverbs for the People," &c. Second edition. 12mo, cloth, .... 1,25 

PROVERBS FOR THE PEOPLE; or, Illustrations of Practical Godliness, drawn 
from the Book of Wisdom. By Rev. Euas L. Magoon. Second thousand. 
12mo, cloth, ,90 

COLEMAN'S PRIMITIVE CHURCH. The ApostoUcal and Primitive Church, 
Popular in its Government and Simple in its Worship. By L. Coleman, Author of 
" Christian Antiquities ; " with an Introductory Essay, by Dr. A. Neander. Third 
thousand. I2mo, cloth, . . . .1,25 

LIFE OF PHILIP M ELAN CTHON, comprising an Account of the most important 
transactions of the Reformation. By Francis A. Cox, D. D., LL. D., of London. 
12mo, cloth.. ... ,75 

THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. By Thomas aKempjs. Introductory Essay, 
by T. Chalmers, D. D. New and improved edition. Edited by H. Malcom, D. D. 
ISmo, cloth,.... ,38 

Fine edition, 16mo, cloth, ,50 

THE SAINT'S VERLASTING REST. By Richard Baxter. 16mo,. cloth,... ,50 

BUCK'S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE ; aTreatise in which the Nature, Evidences, 
and Advantages are considered. By Rev. C. Buck, London. 12mo cloth, 50 

CHRISTIANITY DEMONSTRATED : in four distinct and independent serie."? of 
Proofs ; with an Explanation of the Types and Prophecies concernmg the Messiah. By 
Rev. Harvey Newcomb. 12mo, cloth,.... ,75 

MEMOIR OF HARLAN PAGE; or, the Power of Prayer and Personal Effort for the 
Souls of Individuals. By William A. Hallock. ISmo, cloth,.... ,38 

MEMOIR OF ROGER WILLI A MS, Founder of the State of Rhode Island. By 
W^iLLiAM Gammell, A. M. with a Portrait. 12mo, cloth,.... ,75 

THE CHURCH MEMBER'S M A N U A L of Ecclesiastical Principles, Doctrines, and 
Discipline. By Rev. W. Crowell ; Introduction by H. J. Ripley, D. D. Second 
edition, revised. 12mo, cloth, ,90 

THE PERSON AND WORK OF CHRIST. By Ernest Sartorics, D. D., General 
Superintendent and Consistorial Director at Konigsberg, Prussia. Translated from the 
German. By Rev. Oakman S. Stearns, A. M. 18mo, cloth,.... ,42 

THE INCARNATION. By Rollin II. Neale, D. D., Pastor of the First Baptist 
Church, Boston. 32mo, gilt,. ... ,31>i 

THE CHURCH-MEMBER'S GUIDE. By Rev. John A. James. Edited by J. 0. 
Choules, D. D. New edition. With an Introductory Essay, by the Rev. Hubbard 
WiNSLOw, cloth, . ... ,38 

THE CHURCH IN EARNEST. By Rev. John A. James. Seventh thousand. 
18mo, cloth, ,50 

PASCAL'S THOUGHTS. Thoughts of Blaise Pascal, translated from the French. 
A new edition ; with a sketch of his life. 12mo cloth, 1,00 

THE LIFE OF GODFREY WM. VON LEIBNITZ. By John M. Mackie. On the 
basis of the German work of Dr. G. E. Guhrauer. 18mo, cloth, ,75 

MY PROGRESS IN ERROR AND RECOVERY TO TRUTH ; or, a Tour 
through Universalism, Unitarianism, and Skepticism. 2d thousand. 16mo, cloth,.. ,63 



W'Si^me mm Mm'm@mm. 

THE MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE; a collection of Discourses on Christian 
Missions, by American Authors. Edited by Baron Stow, D. D. Second thousand, 
12mo, cloth,.... ,85 

THE KAREN APOSTLE ; or. Memoir of Ko-Thah-Byu, the first Karen Convert. 
With Notices concerning his Nation. By Rev. Francis Mason, Missionary. Edited by 
Prof. H. J. Ripley. ISmo, cloth, ,25 

MEMOIR OF ANN H. JUDSON, late Missionary to Burmah. By Rev. J. D. 

Knowles. a new edition. Fifty-fifth thousand. 18mo, cloth, .... ,58 

Fine edition, plates, 16mo, cloth, gilt,.... ,85 

MEMOIR OF GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN, late Missionary to Burmah,-con. 
tainiDg much intelligence relative to the Burman Mission. By Rev. A. King. With an 
Introductory Essay. By W. R. Williams, D. D. New edition. 12mo,... cloth,.... ,75 

MEMOIR OF HENRIETTA SHUCK ; first Female Missionary to China. With a 
Likeness. By Rev. J. B. Jeter. Fifth thousand. ISmo, cloth,. . . . ,50 

MEMOIR OF REV. WILLIAM G. CROCKER, late Missionarj- in West Africa, 
among the Bassas. Including a History of the Mission. By R. B. Medbery. With a 
Likeness. ]8mo, cloth ,63 

A HISTORY OF AMERICAN BAPTIST MISSIONS, in Asia, Africa, Europe, 
and North America, from their earliest commencement to the present time. 
Prepared under the direction of the American Baptist Missionary Union. By 
William Gammell, Prof, in Brown University. With seven Maps. Sixth thousand. 
12mo, cloth, .... ,75 

0^ Letters from the Missionaries now in the field, and who are the best qualified to judge 
•f its accuracy, have been received, giving their unequivocal testimony to the fideUty of the work. 

THE GREAT COMMISSION ; or, the Christian Church constituted and charged 
to convey the Gospel to the world. A Prize Essay. By John Harris, D. D. With 
an Introductory Essay, by William R. Williams, D. D. Seventh thousand. 
12mo, cloth, .... 1 ,00 

THE GREAT TEACHER; or. Characteristics of our Lord's Ministry. By John 
Harris, D D. With an Introductory Essay, by H. Humphrey, D. D. Twelfth thousand. 
12mo, cloth, .... ,85 

MISCELLANIES ; consisting principally of Sermons and Essays. By J. Harris, D. D. 
With an Introductory Essay and Notes, by Joseph Belcher, D. D. 16mo,. cloth,. . . .,75 

MAMMON ; or, Covetousness the Sin of the Christian Church. By J. Harris, D. D. 
18mo, cloth,.... ,45 

Z E B U LO N ; or, the Moral Claims of Seamen stated and enforced. By J. Harris, D. D. 
18mo, cloth, ,25 

THE PRE-ADAMITE EARTH. Contributions to Theological Science. By John 
Aarris, D. D. New and Revised edition. One volume, 12mo, cloth,. . . .1,00 

MAN PRIMEVAL; or the Constitution and Primitive Condition of the Human Being. 
A Contribution to Theological Science. By John Harris, D. D. With a finely engraved 
Portrait of the Author. Third edition. i2mo, cloth 1,25 

" His copious and beautiful illustrations of the successive laws of the Divine Manifestation, have 
yielded us inexpressible delight." — London Eclective Review. 

THE FAMILY ; its Constitution, Pi* jbation, and History; being the third volume of 
" Contttbutions to Theological Science." By John Harris, D. D [In preparation 



RIPLEY'S NOTES ON THE GOSPELS; designed ibr Teachers in Sabbath Schoo' 
and Bible Classes, and as an Aid tc Ji'-anily Instr>'-t:ju. By Henry J. Ripley, Prof, in 
Newton Theol. Inst. With a Map jt Canaan. Two volumes in one, . . .half mor 1,25 

NOTES ON THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES; with a beautiful Map, iUus- 
trating the Travels of the Apostle Paul, with a track of his Voyage from Cesarea to 
Rome. By Henry J. Ripley. One volume. 12mo, half mor ,75 

MALCOM'S BIBLE DICTIONARY of the most important Names, Objects, and 
Terms found in the Holy Scriptures ; intended principally for Sabbath School Teachers 
and Bible Classes. By H. Malcom, D. D. One hundred and third thousand. 18mo. 

half mor ,50 

SABBATH SCHOOL CLASS BOOK ; comprising copious Exercises on the Sacred 
Scriptures. By E. Lincoln, jl2>^ 

LINCOLN'S SCRIPTURE QUESTIONS ; with Answers annexed, giving, in the 
language of Scripture, interesting portions of the History, Doctrines, and Duties 
exhibited in the Bible, ,08>^ 

THE SABBATH SCHOOL HARMONY; containing appropriate Hymns and 
Music for Sabbath Schools, Juvenile Singing Schools, and Family Devotion. By 
N. D. Gould, ,12>^ 

HOW TO BE A LADY; a Book for Girls,-containing useful Hints on the Formation 
of Character. By Rev. H. Newcomb. Tenth thousand, cloth, gilt,. . . . ,50 

HOW TO BE A MAN ; a Book for Boys, containing useful Hints on the Formation 
of Character. By Rev. H. Newcomb. Tenth thousand, cloth, gilt, Jt 

ANECDOTES FOR BOYS : Entertaining Anecdotes and Narratives, illustrative c 

Principles and Character. By Rev. Harvey Newcomb. Sixth thousand 18mo, 

cloth, gilt, ,41 

ANECDOTES FOR GIRLS : Entertaining Anecdotes and Narratives, illustrative o\ 

Principles and Character. By Rev. Harvey Newcomb. Sixth thousand ISmo, 

cloth gilt, ,42 

ANECDOTES for the Family and Social Circle. ISmo, cloth, ... ,63 

LEARNING TO ACT — FEEL — THINK. ISmo, cloth, gilt, each,.... ,38 

THE GUIDING STAR; or, The Bible God's Message. Designed to illustrate th« 
second and third questions of the Westminster Catechism. By Louisa Payson Hop<> 

KINS. ISmO, ,r 

An exceedingly interesting and instructive work for youth, on the evidences of Christianity. 

NATIONAL SERIES OF AMERICAN HISTORIES. 

By Rev. Joseph Banvard. Volume one of the Series, — 

PLYMOUTH AND THE PILGRIMS, or, Incidents of Adventure in the History dl 
the First Settlers, with Illustrations. ISmo, cloth, in press. 

Other volumes of the series are in course of preparation. This series of Histories will embrace 
the most interesting and important events which have occurred in the United States since the fir*5 
settlement of the country; exhibiting, also, the trials and adventures of the early colonists both f( 
the North and the South, their peculiarities of character and manners, their intercourse and con- 
flicts with the natives, the gradual development of their institutions, sketches of their prominenl 
men in both the Church and the State, Incidents in the Revolution, with various other subjects 
of interest of more recent date. It is intended to be a NATIONAL SERIES OF AMERICAN 
HISTORY, adapted to the popular mind, and especially to the youth of our country, illustrated 
with numerous fine engravings; each volume to be complete in itself; yet when all are i ubUshed, 
to form a regular consecutive series, consisting of twelve or more volumes, 18mo., of about 300 
pages each. 



MOORE & ANDERSON 

Publish the following Miscellaneous Works : — 

Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland. — By Hugh Miller, 
author of " Footprints of the Creator," etc. 1 vol. 12 rao. — $1.00. 

The Course of Creation. — By Dr. Juo. Anderson. Illustrated. A 
popular work on Geology. 1 vol. 12 mo. — $1.2»5. 

Service Afloat and Ashore. — By Lieut. Senimes, tJ. S. X. Illus- 
trated. 1 vol. 8 vo.— $1.75. 

A Concise History of England, to the accession of Queen Victoria. 
By Clark. Edited by Prof. Moffat. 1 vol. 12 mo.— $1.00. 

The Cavaliers of the Cross. — By W. W. Fosdick, Esq. 1 vol. 12 mo. 
$1.00. 

Roving Adventures, or Lavengro, the Scholar, the Gipsy, the Priest. 
By G^o. Borrow, author of " Gipsies of Spain," etc. 1 elegant volume, 
8 vo.— $1.50. 

JUSTREADY. 

The Homoeopathic Domestic Physician, enlarged with special Hydro- 
pathic directions and illustrated with anatomical plates. By J. H. 
Pulte, M. D. 

The Culture of the Grape, and "Wine-making, By Robert Buchanan, 
Member of the Cincinnati Horticultural Society. With an Appendix, 
containing directions for the Cultivation of the Strawberry. By N. 
Longworth. 

Mr. Downing, in noticing the former edition of Mr, Buchanan's work, 
says, " It deals more with facts, actual experience, and observation, and 
less with speculation, supposition, and belief, than anything on this 
topic that has yet appeared in the United States. In other words, a 
man may take it and plant a vineyard and raise grapes with success; 
he may even make good wine, but no book can wholly teach this latter 
art," etc., etc. 

IN PR EPA RATION. 

The American Orator and Manual of Eloquence. A new Speaker. 
By J. C. Zachos. 1 vol. 12 mo. 
Merry Old England. By Miss Corner. An Illustrated Juvenile. 
A New Work, by Rev. Samuel W. Fisher, 
Esthetics (The Elements). By Prof. J. C. Moffat. 

May, 1852. 



mwmm \ 

THE PSALMIST: a New Collection of Hymns for the use of the Baptist Churches By 
£abon Stow and S. F. Smith. 

Pulpit edition J2mo, (large type,) Turkey morocco, gilt edges,. . . .3,00 

" " 12mo, " " plain morocco,.... 1, 50 

« « 12mo, « <* sheep,.... 1,25 

Pew, " 18mo, sheep,.... ,75 

« " 18mo, morocco, 1,00 

" " 18mo, morocco, gilt, . . . .1,25 

" " ISmo, Turkey morocco, gilt,.... 2,62 >i 

Pocket, " 32mo, sheep, ,56)^ 

" " 32mo, morocco, plain,. ... ,75 

« « 32mo, morocco, gilt, ,83>^ 

" " 32mo, embossed morocco, gilt edges, 1,00 

" « 32mo, , tucks, gilt, 1,25 

*' " 32mo, Turkey morocco, . . . .1,50 

THE PSALMIST, WITH A SUPPLEMENT. By R. Fuller, and J. B. Jetee.— 
Same price ; style and size as above. 

THE SOCIAL PSALMIST ; a new Selection of Hymns.for Conference Meetings and 
Family Devotion. By Baron Stow and S. F. Smith. ISmo, sheep,.... ,25 

WINCHELL'S WATTS, vrith a Supplement. 12mo sheep,.... ,50 

32mo, sheep, ,67 

WATTS AND RIPPON. 32mo, sheep,.... ,56^ 

ISmo, sheep, .... ,88 

THE CHRISTIAN MELODIST ; a new Collection of Hymns for Social Religious 
Worship. By Rev. Joseph Banvard. With a choice selection of Music, adapted to the 
Hymns. IBmo, sheep, )37>^ 

THE SACRED MINSTREL; a Collection of Church Music, consisting of Psalm and 
Hymn Tunes, Anthems, Sentences, Chants, &c., selected from the most popular produc- 
tions of nearly one hundred diiierent authors, in this and other countries. By N. D. 
Gould, ,75 

COMPANION FOR THE PSALMIST ; containing original Music, arranged for 

Hymns in " The Psalmist," of peculiar chtiracter and metre. By N. D. Gould,. . . . ,12 >^ 



wmmmm mm m^wwE^m^ 

JEWETT ON BAPTISM. The Mode and Subjects of Baptism. By M. P. J 
A. M., late IMinister of the Presbyterian Church. Twelfth thousand cloth,. ... ,2-5 

JUDSON ON BAPTISM. A Discourse on Christian Baptism ; with many quotations 
from Pedobaptist Authors. By Adoniram Judson, D. D. Fifth edition, revised and 
enlarged, cloth, .... ,25 

ESSAY ON CHRISTIAN BAPTISM, By Baptist W. Noel. 16mo,... cloth,.... ,60 

BIBLE B A PTI SM . A beautiful Steel Engraving, nine by twelve inches in size, repre- 
senting in the centre a Church and a Baptismal scene, &c., and in the margin are ar- 
ranged all the texts of Scripture found in tlie New Testament alluding to the subject ot 
Baptism. An elegant ornamental picture for the parlor, ,25 



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PRESERVATION TECHN( 
1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 1 
(724)779-2111 



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